Labyrinth IV: Raven's Feather
by Judith Agrathea
Summary: With the help of friends old and new, Light Sarah will wage the ultimate war against her darker side and determine once and for all whether Id or Ego are master.
1. Prologue

The light of the early morning sun dissolved through the fog as it drifted aimlessly over a highway in Wyoming, undulating maternally despite the brutal way in which the gray asphalt sliced through the pink and olive hills as if a sharp knife dissecting fresh grapefruit.

The putrid smoke of exhaust faded into the deepening mist of the cool autumn air as a Dodge pickup truck puttered down the highway. The mist had settled in around September, and even several months later had not gone back to its rightful place Elsewhere. At each valley the eyesore of a vehicle would be swallowed whole, only to emerge at the crest of the hill to assault the eyes of passers by once again.

The man driving the truck seemed preoccupied with manipulating his way through the fog—his look so intense he might have parted the mist with the sheer will of his mind. In that one moment of severe concentration he could have easily come across to a casual observer as a discriminating and intelligent individual—had it not been for the little braids he had knit into his deliberately untamed mountain-man beard.

Despite the fashion faux pas of his facial hair, John Highton was a comely man. During shave-free months he was often told that he looked like a man in his late thirties. He was in fact only twenty-eight and had all the personal fascinations of a twenty-nine year old going on seventeen. Among his interests were Highlander movies and the art of crochet, two hobbies that, oddly enough, found uncanny moments of harmony. When the extremity and girlishness of these two interests were brought to his attention, he merely replied that he could, with the right needles and colors of thread, whip up one hell of a kilt.

It was in fact another interest related to his obsession with Highlander movies that had drawn the concentration across his face. He was thinking about how he would later that day face his least favorite human being in a match of swordplay at the Evanton annual Celtic festival.

A sudden explosive chuckle broke his deliberate silence and expression. "You just wait. Just wait, Billy McGee." He mumbled the man's name with a relish, and scratched his beard for theatrical emphasis.

It wasn't as if he really hated Billy or anything—­he found him more a nuisance than an enemy. He had grown up with Billy from first grade onward, and they had developed a sort of rivalry that got started right around when Billy began to spread word of John's first tatting project all over town their third grade year. Of course, John had in response seen fit to let everyone know that Billy liked to pick his nose and flick his boogers in private, most often at sundry windows many a child had pressed their faces against at school. Perhaps it was a combination of these things that had put the two boys out of sorts with one another.

Word spread quickly; Evanton wasn't a big town by the least, and if you weren't careful you might step over the sharp edge of the pinhead where the city limits sign teetered. John had just barely avoided going over the edge himself, many more times than was normal from someone in the rural town. Who knew what lay on the outskirts of healthy Mid-Western sanity and its dutiful American ethics, not to mention its hearty chicken pot pies?

_Oh yeah_, thought John. _I could wrap my lips around one of ma's chicken pot pies right about now_.

Like most folks in the Mid West, John's mother's dedication to old-fashioned American principles was about as thick as the thread that held the hem of her thirty-two year old periwinkle mumu in check. A woman of fifty-five, she refused to let her son leave home lest she make the mindful decision of permitting menopause a full claim on her sanity. Who knew what she would do if John left home? She might start smoking cigarettes. Refuse her husband the pleasures only a man can know with his wife. Start cooking French food. He wouldn't put it past her.

And so, out of kind respect for his mother and father (not to mention a healthy respect for the bills they were all too willing to handle), John continued to live at home. It explained a lot about why he thought men in skirts were so manly, especially when they were cutting off other people's heads.

It was a lot for someone of such simple means to think about while on the way to a Celtic festival, but there were long stretches of nothing between every bit of something in the Mid West, and thought was the most convenient matter with which to fill it.

He was running out of things to think about when the valley where the festival was being held appeared on the horizon, thus saving him from a mind absent of reverie. He had gotten off his shift at Wal-Mart a little late and, much to his dismay, the festivities had begun without him.

As he drove into the parking lot, a group of people who were standing by the fence recognized his truck and waved to him. He waved back and smiled his best apple pie smile just before skidding into a parking place, kicking up a mound of dust that settled just as he hopped out.

John Highton was decked to the nines in Scottish garb, or as close as he could get in the middle of Wyoming. Between Wal-Mart and eBay he had miraculously pulled together a reasonable approximation of a Scot. He pulled his sword out of the cargo area and wrapped the belt and sheath around his waist as he approached his companions.

He was beaming, looking forward to the fun-filled day of fantasy—and childish revenge—that awaited him.

He approached a threesome that awaited him by the fence. An auburn-haired girl named Elaine was the first to greet him.

"Hi Johnny boy." Her thinly-veiled crush of twenty years for him tended to poke out in even the most non-descript conversation.

"Anything interesting happen yet?" John asked, hopeful for some tidbit of juicy gossip.

"No, not yet… Things'er just gettin' started." The dusk-haired boy who answered was Will. His hands sat languidly in the pockets of his very non-Celtic Wrangler jeans. The expression on his face indicated that he probably had very sketchy reasons for attending the festival, probably reasons even he was questioning at that moment. However, those reasons were not nearly as sketchy as the reasons why a boy such as himself would still inhabit a city like Evanton, Wyoming. He looked like he might sprout wings at any moment and fly somewhere further West, preferably in a city ruled by punk bands.

Vlad, long-haired and apparently more adamant than even John that "_there could be only one"_ (apparent from the very serious armor he wore that he had won in a bid on Ebay for one thousand dollars more than it was worth) leaned on his sword and added more to the tale of goings-on that John had missed. "Ay, Lad, but Billy ha'been asking after ya." His Scottish accent was horribly butchered, which made complete sense, being that he was a butcher's son. If one knew him as well as John did, one would realize that his need to express his manliness had almost everything to do with the fact that his mother was the butcher, and his father did all the sweeping about the house. Not at all a healthy occupation for a Mid Western man.

_It must also be noted that Vlad's name was not really Vlad at all, but was in fact Paul, a joke only his mother seemed to be in on, the proof of which came when she used his real name and almost always laughed soon after. Paul soon began to demand that he be called Vlad by all as an attempt to foil the unknown joke._

John looked around the grounds in an effort to find his arch enemy. Since John had twenty-twenty vision in one eye and a horrible stigmatism in the other, he closed the bad eye and shaded the good one with his hand to fight off the creeping white sun. No sooner had he spotted Billy when he started to notice something completely unhealthy and downright un-American happening on the horizon.

A herd of gazelles was approaching at break-neck speed, growing larger as they drew near. Not only were increasing in size, but they were transforming into some strange creature that, in the end, only bore the original sensuous horns and gait of its preceding state. Everyone at the festival might have thought to look over at this unusual and unwholesome sight, might even have noticed that the prairie brush on the surrounding hills was curling into odd coiled shapes and transforming into hues of burgundy and sunset orange, might have seen the sky turning maize and purple, might have gawked at the bare hint of a second moon hanging in the early morning sky…if something baffling hadn't been happening to all of them at that particular moment.

It was a sad day in the Mid West, as every wholesome value, every stoic attempt to reign in the bestial desires of a people to dream beyond their means, every noble attempt to be something sensible was instantly shattered by the villainous workings of a mysterious and far-reaching magic spell.

John was in fact one of those who had ceased to see what was happening to the surroundings. His distraction was so great that he managed to forget a bit of who he was, or how he had come to be there.

He opened his eyes and took a good look at his hands. Everything seemed intact, but something wasn't quite right.

John Highton had transformed. The fur on his fingers wasn't the hairy indication of manliness. No, it was the hair of something much more sinister. It was the hair of a three foot, two inch tall guinea pig with a strong itch to save Scotland from the Irish.

As he looked out onto the field at the sea of giant guinea pigs in clothing, a feeling washed over him that shouted it was all his fault.

Hadn't he dreamt this before? More importantly, how was he going to explain this to his mother?

And then he realized the most horrible thing of all… He didn't have any patterns for kilts for a giant guinea pig.


	2. BOOK I THE DREAM

BOOK I

THE DREAM

Breaking up is hard, but keeping dark is hateful  
I had so many dreams, I had so many breakthroughs  
But you, my love, were kind, but love has left you dreamless  
The door to dreams was closed. Your park was real dreamless

Perhaps you're smiling now, smiling through this darkness  
But all I had to give was the guilt for dreaming

We should be on by now...

Time, David Bowie

Everybody's raised in blindness  
Everybody knows it's true  
Everybody feels that everything is real  
Anybody's point of view

Nobody can break their bondage  
Everyone can feel their chains  
But even in my life I knew you found your sight  
And nothing would be quite the same

Please help me  
Who can I be now?

You found me  
Now can I be real?

Can I be real?

Who Can I Be Now, David Bowie


	3. Chapter I Neither Here Nor There

The remains of New York City sprawled before Jareth like the blood-red leaves of a maple tree, freshly fallen at the first blow of Autumn. Wind whistled through the cracks in stone and concrete, blustering through the fur of many anthropomorphized creature. The _new_ New Yorkers scurried across the sidewalks, hustling and bustling in a manner not too unlike the usual behavior of the city's dwellers on any normal week day, except that manner was completely disorganized, teetering on insanity, and as far from normal as strange could possibly get.

Jareth leaned in further on the balcony of the third-story roof of Marlena's shop and home, trying to get a closer look at the changes that had occurred during the magical transformation Sarah had set in motion. Skyscrapers, twisted and malformed, looked more like tottering stacks of children's blocks, black and gnarled against a deep purple sky—a grove of misguided, living, and lived-in trees. Irregularly shaped windows glowed from the various buildings at different colors and arrangements. It looked like a Van Gogh painting—pulsing colors and outlines that, if Jareth could discern correctly, had not yet finalized their placements. The more still he became to observe the damage, the better he could see that it was all throbbing, still moving and growing. The change was so demented and perverse that he could hardly imagine that the scene that played before him was part of the workings of the once innocent and vivid mind of Sarah.

He walked the perimeter of the roof, trying to gather his thoughts as he gained a three-sixty perspective of the surroundings. Blond wisps of hair teased his face; he brushed them aside, boyishly scratching at his nose where one tendril had agitated his skin. His mismatched eyes looked lost, his mouth pursed and motionless, saddened. He was still adorned in the high-fashion trench coat that he had purchased with Ashley earlier that day. It had been only the day before, hadn't it? It was at this thought he realized how tired he had become… The evening grew later and later, working its way into the deep misty blue of morning hours.

The shadow of adjoining buildings towered over, and he looked up to see that two former office buildings loomed overhead, teetering as if to fall intentionally upon his head. Slime dripped off a girder and fell on the arm of his jacket. He wiped it off halfheartedly as he moved towards the rear end of the building.

A howling, whistling wind blew between the towering high-rises and over the twelve story building that housed Marlena's shop and a host of other stores and apartments, rattling a few antennas and mini satellite dishes in its wake. Eerie clouds cast a pink haze over the bursting moons, misty portents of doom straight out of the illustration of some child's storybook.

There were still some people remaining in the streets, where they walked by like zombies, trying to come to grips with what had happened to their world. A part of them had an inkling, had some idea of where this change had come from. He had heard voices crying from the streets and open windows that it must be a dream. More specifically that it was _their_ dream, as if they were somehow to blame for it all. It was an odd thing to say, or so one would think, if they didn't know what Jareth knew.

It reminded him of the time he had rendered chalk drawings on the sidewalks to amuse his new friends, and passers-by had miraculously recognized his artful musings as pieces of their subconscious.

_Damn, I think about it as if it were centuries ago, yet it was only a day. A day ago there was some semblance of order to this strange city, and now it has become more chaotic than even the Underground._

Signs of bedlam truly abounded. Creatures of all kinds, purely of Underground, purely of Aboveground, crossbreeds between the two, talking and silent, violent and joyous, were all mucking about the streets, driving cabs, picking pockets, goofing around, and even working at jobs—whatever the jobs might be at this point. But Jareth could tell, even this soon, that it wasn't working. It would break down. Without some stabilizing force, it would fall to pieces, and even then security of such an existence was doubtful.

As he looked over the mangled remains of the city, he ticked off facts in his mind in an attempt to get a grasp on what had happened the day before.

In the time that passed since the change there were few signs that anyone found it strange, aside from the scattered people who had mysteriously not been transformed by the spell. Gatherings of these leftover people were held throughout the city, small clusters of artists, writers, and children trying to figure out what had occurred, where their world had gone. All seemed thoroughly alarmed by the changes, yet none of them were wholeheartedly complaining. But where would these unchanged people go? What was their place in this new world? People they had known were now changed to creatures of a kind they only imagined in their wildest dreams, and barely seemed to acknowledge the changes. Sometimes the changed ones didn't even note the presence of the people they had once lived with or loved, those humans who remained as they had been before the spell. These humans were now completely lost and did not even have a home to which they could go.

Jareth had been to such a gathering earlier that day, explaining what he could surmise from events. He revealed that somehow a formidable magic from his world had been brought into this one, and that he did not know how to reverse its malignance. He explained that they were not crazy in thinking that they indeed _had dreamed it all,_ because he felt it was likely that many aspects of this world had been birthed by the subconscious machinations of many individuals in the city. But what that conclusion meant and why it was _their_ dreams in particular that had come true, he could not explain.

He had been on a mission to find a little boy—a seemingly simple mission, a small matter of business on this unfamiliar world. As usual, trouble had followed him. Trouble was apparently his permanent and unruly companion.

Jareth sighed deeply, closing his eyes as a sudden bout of warm wind whipped through his long blonde hair. He tried to imagine for a moment there was nothing to worry about. Then he opened his eyes and was greeted by the warped and twisted shapes of the city around him.

What he did not explain to the people he met earlier that day was that he knew the greatest love of his life was somehow at the center of these troubles. The image of Sarah standing on the tower in Times Square haunted him, her raven-clad dress swirling about her in a dark purple wind, her eyes aglow with evil machinations as her face appeared on every television screen in the Square, in pawn shop windows, in apartments. He had barely noticed the ground moving beneath him as he had been mesmerized by her face and her words.

'Hello my love.'

Could he have asked for a worse circumstance for the confirmation of her love? She wasn't herself, and she was using the same games against him that he had once used in torturing her. It had been during his long past dark times as Goblin King, starting with the moment he kidnapped her little brother Toby.

He could only guess what the coming days would bring. There was already an air of disarray to the city; noisy creatures abounded, running over each other in their once normal affairs. Television proceeded as normal, with not so normal faces and not so normal news. Grocery stores stayed open, selling not so usual food items. Cab drivers were no longer human, and didn't always drive cars, but one way or another, they got you somewhere, though not necessarily where you wanted to go.

And there was a lot more consternation and unanswered questions brewing underneath the surface of the more obvious questions. Where were Sage and the others? Had his world been entirely lost in this transformation? Did anyone really know what was going on? All he knew was that it was probably up to him to answer all these questions, and he did not feel up to the task. He missed Sarah terribly, and their reunion only seemed further and further away. He longed to hold her close to him, feel the warmth of her skin, the flowery scent of her hair … the physical manifestations of a love he was beginning to feel he had suffered long enough to have earned. He was beginning to wonder if the constant struggles that beset him were supposed to be the signs that fate was wholeheartedly against their union. Did he somehow tarnish her greatness? She had grown more powerful since he left. Perhaps she was meant to forge a path separate from him. Most deeply he felt it was his own fault for bringing this chaos upon the city, and uprooting Sarah from everything that had once been safe and familiar. Perhaps she had never been meant to learn of the world of fantasy that was the Underground. Perhaps the doom she was too great a price to pay for having released Jareth and his former minions of the Goblin City from their own dark spell.

Jareth began to sing a tune under light breath. It was one of the many poems he had written whilst thinking of her during his four years in isolation, and as singing it tended to comfort him in times of trouble, he turned to his gift once again for respite.

_Two lovers spoke on one fine eve  
Girl's eyes did speak of future grieved  
Yet left behind a past unspent  
To find a future to repent._

_"Never shall we meet again  
Not in white snow, nor acid rain  
Upon the brow of unwashed morn  
Or teardrop fall'n from lid forlorn."_

_"I say not so, but on the 'scape  
We'll many rosebuds fondly drape  
And once again walk hand in hand  
Across this varied, lonely land."_

_What can be said of woman's blood?  
Half human flow'r, half faery mud,  
And with a pinch of faint regret  
That hangs from hopeful springtime sweat._

_"Could it be we'll meet again  
In dark skies, or 'mongst light grain  
Upon the bark of gnarl-ed tree  
On wings surprised, and feather free?"_

_"I say not so, but in our dreams  
For futures hold a fate more green  
The life we lead shall be more fair  
In our minds reality laid bare._

_Lives in pieces, we'll live whole  
Living neither here nor there."_

Before he could let his thoughts get the best of him, Marlena crawled off the fire escape and onto the roof. Her green eyes were afire with excitement and magic. While the transformation of her city had caught her off guard, she still managed to maintain a childlike amazement. Never had she shown any doubt that she, Jareth, and her coven companions would put things right. Marlena took the events in stride more than Jareth ever could. He had solved many difficult problems in his lifetime, but he could think of little to which he could compare this one. It amazed him that she could be so optimistic about affairs.

"That was beautiful," she said, smiling softly as she approached him.

"You were listening?" Jareth asked with a hint of a blush.

"No need to be embarrassed," she said with a pleasant chuckle. "You have a tremendous singing voice."

He sighed slightly. "Well, it has been a long time since I sang for an audience." He gave her a bit of a smile to assure her he was all right. She had been worrying over him profusely for the last twenty-four hours, seeming to sense quite well the depth to which current affairs troubled him. "Have you seen Jeremiah lately? I came up here looking for him."

"He went out into the city to try to find out where Sarah is settling," Marlena said as she brushed a bit of curly red hair from her face. "How is he going to get around in this mess?" She looked over the edge and was greeted with a view of back-to-back traffic. It was eight o'clock at night, and it hadn't let up since the transformation two days prior.

"I suspect he still has his fellwit companion," Jareth replied, musing absently as he lifted his laurels up onto the daunting precipice of the roof to sit. It seemed to make Marlena a little nervous, but she didn't say anything.

"Fellwit?"

Jareth smiled wanly. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget where I am." He started playing self-consciously with the lapels on his smart black coat. "It's a sort of flying creature. Much like a dragon… or a giant cat. He found her a long time ago, and they live a very long time. Her name is… Ingeborg? I think."

Marlena smiled at the notion, resting her elbows on the roof and gazing dreamily over the city. "Hmm. I'd like to have my own fellwit. People always think witches can fly, but it is an old myth." She sighed deeply. "If only we could. All I can manage is a little astral projection. Which is of course exciting, but nothing like feeling the wind through your hair."

Jareth gazed at Marlena, a little sadly. She was a dreamer, like Sarah. Everything reminded him of Sarah at the moment. Everything except for Sarah herself.

"I suppose power would be limited here," Jareth answered, shooing his uncomfortable thoughts away. "Or would have been, at least. I studied magic myself as a lad, but of course flying is not out of the question if you can master shape-changing. My mother taught me a bit herself. She couldn't do much, but she was an excellent shape-changer. She was quite good at birds."

"Oh, that's lovely," Marlena replied. "Sometime you'll have to teach me that."

"I'd be more than happy to. I can't do it myself these days… but I can try to explain it to you." Jareth looked up at the starry night sky, its new constellations unfamiliar to him. How he missed flying on the wings of an owl. He hadn't been able to do it since the four years ago when he gave up his kingdom to Sarah. All of his magic had left him, except for the little bits that slowly creeped in on him, improving with time. Most of his redeveloping skills centered around manipulating his artwork. Perhaps he was paying for unearned magic, and now he had to learn it again slowly, rightfully. Paying his dues.

Marlena spoke up again, breaking through his thoughts. "Though we'd have to go to your world, as I'm sure it won't work here once we get everything sorted out." She scratched her nose as a stray hair flew across her face.

"You seem so sure about that," Jareth answered, hopping down.

"Well, we have to, so we will," she answered with a big smile.

"I wish Sage were here. He'd help us."

Marlena looked at him in confusion. "That's your friend, right? You told me you had an elf friend yesterday."

"Yes, that's his name, Sage."

She was quiet a moment. Jareth watched her a few moments before prodding her. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, just, well, I feel like I know someone by that name, but I can't remember where. Maybe it's just… I don't know, all the herbs I use for my spells." She laughed suddenly. She seemed discomforted by her own lack of remembrance, at all she had lost at the hands of her amnesia. "I get so acquainted with them all, I am personifying them!"

Jareth laughed too. "They could easily be people by now, so be careful what you say."

Jareth's comment prodded Marlena to laugh even harder. "Oh, you really missed it. Downstairs, earlier, the girls tried to brew a pot of tea, and when it was fully rehydrated, these little worms jumped out! They ran out the window screaming because they were determined Ashley was going to squash them! They kept asking for 'soda beverages' and before Ashley could bring them any, they had left."

Jareth shook his head and laughed. "Par for the course, I suppose. Might as well get used to a lot more of that."

They walked the length of the roof together. After a few moments of silence, Marlena switched topics with a brutal sense of reality. "Isn't it odd that Sarah is doing this? From how you described her, she didn't strike me as one to be easily swayed by dark powers."

Her words were like a heavy weight on Jareth's shoulders. "No, it's not at all like her. I fear she is being manipulated by Kaleb, my shadow, somehow."

Marlena nodded somberly. They stopped and looked over the east edge of the building, just a sliver of a view of Times Square visible, bringing back ominous images from the day before.

Jareth feared a great deal more at work. There was something greatly disturbing about the appearance of his old master, Jeremiah. They hadn't parted on good terms. It was in fact Jeremiah who had cursed Jareth to seventy-four years as a king of goblins. A harsh sentence for adolescent stupidity, one that Jareth, even in his adult wisdom, had not yet found the strength to forgive the man for.

Marlena looked up at him and smiled through harshly squinting eyes. "Your aura is a lot bigger. Maybe you had left some of it back Underground."

Jareth cocked his head to the side, strangely interested in this thread of conversation. He looked at Marlena carefully, trying to bring forth enough concentration to see her own aura. He walked a semi-circle about her, trying to block the glare of the lamp sitting over the door to the rooftop.

"That's what it is," he said, as if coming to an amazing revelation.

"What?" Marlena said, surprised by his level of interest.

"That's what has changed about you. I couldn't put my finger on it."

Marlena's eyes grew big with great interest. "What!"

"Your aura. You have one now. You didn't before. Or you didn't seem to." Jareth seemed dumbfounded by the notion. He hadn't been in the habit of deliberately exploring auras, but it was something that he registered subconsciously by habit. It was simply unheard of for someone to _not_ possess an aura.

Marlena cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "Hmph. Gail was always telling me that. I never believed her."

Jareth looked at her intently. "Perhaps we will solve the mystery of you after we get a grip on current affairs."

She looked away from him uncomfortably before climbing over the banister and onto the fire escape. "Don't expect much," she muttered under her breath. "I've been trying to figure myself out for a long time now."

Toby moped in a corner of the storeroom, tossing a ball against the facing wall, catching it as it rebounded, then throwing it again. His face was a mass of despair and confusion when Sir Didymus came rustling through the curtains.

"There you are, Master Toby!" he exclaimed as he bounced toward the boy.

Toby didn't answer, but kept at his current distraction.

Sir Didymus seemed perplexed by the boy's behavior. "Are you feeling well?"

"Not really," was Toby's short reply. Just as Sir Didymus seemed like he was going to offer some sort of condolence, the boy burst out, "Why did my sister do this? What's wrong with her?"

He stopped his bouncing of the ball and rested his head on his knees and looked forlornly into the corner, away from Didymus. He didn't seem to expect an answer.

The knighted fox, at a loss for words, worked his jaw from side to side in an effort to find some. "I do not know, Master Toby," was what he finally managed. He sashayed over to the boy's side and hunched next to him. The air creaked a few moments before the fox continued, "Does it disturb you so to see your world changed? I would think a young boy such as yourself would relish in his world finding magic."

"Not like this!" Toby started out with passion. "This… this isn't right at all. The magic should stay Underground! I mean, it's nice and all, but…" He got up and looked out the window, over the alley. "This is just wrong. Everything is mixed up. It's too crazy. Sarah would know better." He propped his head on the sill and gazed into the sky and its two moons. One was full, and the other was half waxing. "I don't understand. Now we'll never fix things."

Didymus sat uncharacteristically still as he pondered events. "This Kaleb is most definitely the cause of the Queen's behavior," he growled softly. "I didst not like the smell of him since the first time I laid mine keen eyes upon him."

Toby had to agree that he thought Kaleb had caused all of this somehow. He had seen Sarah closely the night before, through magic he guessed, and she had addressed him directly. 'Hello brother. Now we have what we always wanted. I'll be coming for you.'

Most of all he remembered the purple tinge to her eyes. They bore deep into him, leaving him with the uncomfortable thought that she wasn't really his sister. But at the same time, she _was_ his sister. And if she had changed so much, it was a little frightening to him to think she would come for him. Never in his life could he imagine a time when he was ever scared to see her. It made him a little angry, to be put in such a position.

"They thought I was crazy," Toby spat out a little disgustedly.

"Who did?" Didymus inquired.

"My parents," Toby explained. "They wanted to send me to a person who tries to make you not crazy. But I wasn't crazy, just because I could see magic things."

He picked up the ball again, then furrowed his brow, concentrating hard in an effort to make it float. Within a few moments, it was hovering a couple of inches above his hand. He bit his lip, and it turned into a tiny little goblin figure.

The boy's face exploded into happy surprise, until the little goblin _moved_ then proceeded to _bite him_. Toby dropped it like a hot potato, and it scuttled somewhere behind a shelf.

He shook his hand in reflex. "That smarted! What is it with goblins and faeries anyway?" He slouched down again, deflated.

Didymus' mouth hung agape in a characteristic, slack-tongued canine grin. "That was rather impressive. I always knew you would be a great sorcerer someday, Master Toby."

Toby turned a corner of his mouth up in disbelief. "Don't know about that. Really, I don't know why Jareth came to get me in the first place. I'm not good enough to help him, really." He pulled a little book out of his jacket pocket. He had snuck it off of one of Marlena's shelves. "A Simple Guide to Visualization in Magik" was laid in silver leaf on the cover.

He opened to a chapter on fae guides. It was a little difficult for him to read in places, but he found it surprisingly easy to understand overall.

_If one be greatly skilled or naturally inclined toward the Magikal arts, the witch or warlock may find her or himself followed by fae guides. This guide may not be of any predefined form of the practitioner, but may choose its own form, as the guide sees the true needs of the practitioner. These fae appearances are often frequent in the youth of an adept, but wane with age as the mind becomes less inclined toward the naive acceptance of a child._

_To call a guide, one must only imagine a need for guidance, and, if the guide perceives the need as strong enough or in the guide's own interest, and the visualization is coherent or powerful enough, the guide will appear. This does not necessarily mean it will appear at the moment of calling; as with all things fae, time is relative, except for when time is of the essence. As fae can see beyond constraints of time and space, the guide will know the truly appropriate time to manifest._

_However, sometimes fae are known to appear just to cause mischief. See the next chapter on "Discouraging Fae Visitation" for these instances._

Toby was about to close the book when another line appeared beneath the last paragraph.

_Note: It is much harder to make a fae leave than it is to make it manifest. Be very sure you are truly in need of your guide before calling. And we mean _**_really sure._**

What Toby didn't realize was that he had been subconsciously calling to the guides as he read the book. Well, he did realize it as soon as he put it down. For sitting right in front of him were two gnomish leprechauns. One had a beard and was staring intently, and perhaps a little precociously, up at Toby, while the other, clean-shaven except for a bit of bristle, was snoring soundly while nestling an empty jug that once held some kind of liquor under his arm.

"'Allo Toby m'lad," said the bearded leprechaun.

Sir Didymus stood to attention and growled at the intruders. "Get thee back you villainous… villains!"

Toby jumped up in shock and horror. "You're the stupid gnome who put blue paint in Susy's hair at school! And everyone blamed me!" He crossed his arms indignantly.

"And thou art the gnomes that set the castle kitchens on fire three days ago!" Didymus cried, poking each of them with his staff.

The little man jumped up with equal indignation, touching the staff and turning it into a spaghetti noodle to Didymus' bafflement. "I be half leprechaun, I'll have'ya know!" Then he grinned evilly. "And, aye, that were us, it was a lotto fun, huh Toby m'boy?"

"No! No it wasn't!" Toby exclaimed. Before Toby could ask Didymus more about his own encounter with the small fellows, the fox was trying to strangle the leprechaun. "Didymus! It's okay, put him down! It's my own stupid fault he's here in the first place."

Didymus grudgingly did as he was told. "You are lucky, _little man_," the fox growled under his breath. "I have it in my mind to give you a good throttling!"

Scotty dusted himself off petulantly. "Not jest in yer mind, huh?" he grumbled.

Toby turned away in exasperation with a pouty look on his face. "These are _my guides?_" he asked to no one in particular.

Scotty jumped a little too bouncily to the shelf that Toby was staring at. "And what's so wrong with that, Lad? We shall guide you to good times galore!"

"You're sorry excuses for leprechauns," Toby replied, giving the drunken Fred a once-over. "What's wrong with him?"

"He been drinkin' too much dandelion wine, I'm afraid. But then, he's always been drinkin' too much dandelion wine."

"And what's your stupid problem?" Toby demanded.

"Touchy, touchy!" exclaimed the leprechaun. "Ain't me fault me ex-wife took me whole pot of gold in alimony payments! Ain't me fault she caught me with another woman!"

Toby rolled his eyes. "Great. Leprechauns who've spent all their gold. With _emotional _problems, too." He said the last bit as if rehearsing the line from a conversation between his parents. "You're really no use to me."

Didymus looked up at Toby pleadingly. "Please, sir, let me take care of these mongrels for you."

Toby frowned sulkily. "No. The book says they're here for a reason." He glowered at the two. "Though I can't really guess _what good they'll do_."

Rattlebeak popped up from behind a stack of books where he had been napping most of the day. "What's goin' on? Couldja be a little _louder_ please?" His beak twitched petulantly as his little eyes furrowed sleepily with frustration.

"Sorry, Rattlebeak," Toby answered with a frown.

The bird jumped onto the boy's shoulder and shook his feathers. "I'll forgive ya if you get me some food." His little tongue lapped about his beak expectantly.

Didymus rolled his eyes. "Figures. You, my friend, are no better than Ambrosius." The dog sighed sadly, the mention of his steed alone causing him great consternation.

"Where'd they go?" Toby spun around to observe the storage room anxiously, ducking from aisle to aisle of boxes and statues to find it completely bereft of noisy, obnoxious gnomes.

"Who cares? I'm hungry." Rattlebeak's stomach growled loudly in conjunction with his declaration. He didn't even seem mildly concerned about why Toby was looking for a pair of gnomes.

Toby frowned fitfully. "Probably up to no good. I hope they don't get me into any trouble."

Didymus snorted. "Don't get thine hopes of, Master Tobias. That is what they do best."


	4. Chapter II Through the Faery Gate

Sarah stepped into the faery gate. A sense of nothingness washed over her and she lost sight of her friends. It set her off guard and sent caused her stomach to sink. A sense of fear gave way to a sense of awe.

The essence of the Gatekeeper was more beautiful, more frightening and exhilarating than anything she had ever seen before. As the depthless, sightless light of its eyes passed through her, she had a glimpse of what God might be. It was nothing within her preconceived definition's reach. It was all glory and magic, science and art, form and formless, individual and community combined into one. It looked down upon her with an all-seeing, sightless eye. It bestowed love upon her. It showed her the beauty of order. It also gave her a hint that, perhaps, there was even some beauty in chaos.

Then her feet touched ground and the nothingness resolved itself into the darkness and shadow of a place somewhere else. As her eyes tried to focus on this new place, she felt a sense of momentary understanding. While she did not know where her journey would take her or the ultimate reason for the journey, she felt her journey would succeed and that it would prove to be worthwhile.

As the smells reached her and the lines crispened, she began to sense that she was at the oasis at the center of a dry desert. Sand reached her nostrils amid this amazingly lush are as well as a view of her fellow travelers, who were as disoriented as she was. Her eyes moved to a slight rustle in the foliage, where she could discern painted faces peering at her from behind the thinly spread trees. The faces seemed to watch her with a hint of the same all-seeing depth of the Gatekeeper. It was with their mysterious help that she realized something had changed within her on her journey through the portal. Though her companions had simultaneously made the landing from the portal, it was only her upon which these curious faces peered.

She looked to the others in her group, and could not discern that they had experienced anything particularly extraordinary in the journey, other than physical disorientation caused by being snatched and replaced in a drastically different landscape. They all looked to each other with eyes that questioned the origins of these brown-skinned people that stared at Sarah so intently.

"Aborigines." She smiled at the thought. Such a fantastic people from her world, with a magic all their own. Had she been a bit wiser as a teenager, she might have found the desire to visit the fantastic creatures and people of her own world instead of seeing it necessary to escape in an alternate one. Not that she regretted all that had happened to her since the fateful day the Goblin King took her to the Underground. She just had begun to appreciate how marvelous Aboveground could be, as well.

One man turned to his companion. "Look'id this here 'merican woman, Wonggu. She got the dreamtime. She bring dese dream-dwellers to de dreamtime."

Wonggu responded by coming closer to examine Sage and Ludo more closely, giving the two a very circumspect, yet fascinated once-over. "Never seen dese type folk. Whad your name, Dreamwoman? Who dese you bring?"

Sarah was amazed at their ability to so readily except her and her friends. No astonishment? No fear? And they spoke of dreamtime, as if they were in it. _In dreamtime?_ She had always assumed that dreamtime was just a place at the center of their mythology, not someplace real.

She wanted to speak, but she felt uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. It took a moment before she could get the words out. "I'm Sarah, from the land Underground. I just came with my companions from the Mist of Dreams."

Sage looked up at her with a probing expression when she did not continue in her speech, then turned to ask what he was sure was on everyone's mind. "Is this another Mist? Dreamtime?"

"Do'know boud no mists. Dey be misty'a'times." Wonggu held his arm aloft in an encompassing sweep. "Dis da dreamtime. Where we sees the beginning a'all tings, where da river began. We visit, to let the river flow through our mind."

"Dis here be like no dream-dweller I ha'seen," Wonggu said, pointing to Sage. "I ha'seen the bug-women, but no stick-ears.You a man bug? No wings, but stick ears?"

"I'm an Elf," Sage offered with a smile. "It sounds as if you have seen what we call faery. They live on our world, too. Actually, they live on both our worlds, just don't show themselves as often to those Aboveground."

"Ah, yeah, he's a'right. Only in dreamtime, they come, these faery. Not in the Bush." Albert seemed most able to grasp the English language. His Australian accent came through. Sarah noticed that he wore a pair of Levi's.

"You look like de faery, but you got no wings," Albert said to Sarah. "You be de queen?"

Sarah chuckled warmly, a rosy glow spreading on her cheeks. "Well, you got the queen part right, anyhow."

"Strange things be happenin," Albert grumbled as he looked to his friend, Wonggu.

Wonggu looked at the group of Undergrounders quietly, taking in Albert's words as if chewing on gravel.

The silence was becoming awkward, so Sarah forced herself to stutter out some pertinent questions. "Is this… Australia?"

The aborigine men frowned. Albert shook his head as if exasperated. "Don' know where we be. This seem like da Bush, but don't see much green, even by th'water holes."

Wonggu offered an idea between grunts. "Maybe we come to white feller city. Always some green dere."

The two men were very still compared to the Undergrounders they spoke to. There was little in the way of shifting stances and nodding heads. Perplexed as they were, they took the current situation completely in stride.

Albert sniffed the air as if even it were completely new to him, then spoke up. "Not whitefeller country. Something bad gone wrong."

Sage and the others looked up at Sarah as if expecting answers. Granen scratched his bristly chin thoughtfully. "That's'n understatement, m'friends."

Sarah's head swum as she tried to get a grip on the situation. She looked at Sage with an intense gaze, hoping some kind of understanding would be revealed in his face. When he didn't offer any comfort, she asked him, "So what do we do?"

The elf man was completely silent, and turned to look at the two Aboriginal men circumspectly.

They seemed to know what he was thinking. "Follow us, underworlders," Wonggu said with a curt motion of his hand. "We find some land marks to lead us outta da Dreaming."

The group began to follow, one by one, a strange caravan of creatures in tow of the Aborigine men. Hoggle, the dwarf; Ludo, the beast; Vindar, son of Sage; Isabelle, former goblin girl; Eberon, King of Elves; Sage, Queen's friend and Elfin advisor; Eepwot, King of Fieries; Benedick, King of Felines; Mandelbrot, personal sorcerer to Eberon; Granen, undying friend to Jareth; and Sarah, Queen of the Underground.

Sarah looked behind her and a sudden sinking feeling took grip of her stomach. She forced it aside and looked ahead. Still, her thoughts got the better of her.

_This is ridiculous._


	5. Chapter III A Day at the Office

The boisterous noise in the hallway had seeped endlessly from the crack under the door and only got worse as the day had passed. It was the second day that Leah had been stuck at the offices of Jim Henson, and she was so afraid to leave her office that she had slept there the night.

Perhaps _afraid_ was a strong way to put it. She was _reluctant _to deal with a horde of bouncing Muppets. She was _ill-inclined_ to become involved with a world that had mysteriously transformed into a cross continent circus within the course of a half hour. Deep down she had hoped that if she stayed locked up for long enough, all the insanity would jump back on its boat and sail away, to far distant lands that had nothing to do with her. Perhaps the situation would solve itself and she would not be required to take charge and put the chipped tea cups of reality back at their proper station in the metaphysical china cabinet. Leah had always had to clean up other people's messes—at least since the onset of her humanity—and this was one mess that she desperately wanted no part of.

She found that if she laid low she was generally left alone by the inhabitants of the company. With the door closed, she had managed to get some semblance of sleep, even though the chaos in the building seemed to last to some small degree even in the wee hours of morning.

Needless to say, she didn't get a lot of rest and the chaos did not appear to be leaving anytime soon. _Muppets are soooo cute on television, but I swear, if I see another Muppet, I'm going to strangle it._

All the coffee she had the day before hadn't helped much, either. She was feeling the need to urinate. Badly. Despite her best judgment, she hopped out of the desk chair and threw open the door, boldly rushing forth to finally face whatever might lunge at her.

Her doom came in the form of Kermit the Frog, who was meekly standing—and had been standing for some time, it appeared—in front of her office door. Her face collapsed with the weight of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

"Hi, Kermit."

Kermit smiled up at her. "Hi ho, Ms. Leah. I was—uh—just waiting, you know, for whenever you were ready to come out." He chuckled uncomfortably.

"I have to pee," she said bluntly.

"Erm, yes, well, the, uh, bathroom is right around that corner, Ms. Leah." He pointed a fuzzy floppy finger to the right.

"Thank you."

A fish-like Muppet seemed to take interest in her need to make water, and popped out from a conversation with Pepe the Prawn to shout some words of advice to her. "Do a potty dance if you're having trouble holding it!" A hallway full of Muppets watched her with curiosity over her journey before quickly turning to one another to continue their previous conversations.

As Leah ran into the bathroom—which was equally infested with autonomous puppets as the hallway—she tried to wrap her mind around events for the hundredth time. _How did this happen? Really, this is just silly. Did Hoggle start all this when he tried to raise his parents from the dead? No way he has that much power. Is Kaleb up to this?_

She sighed deeply as she relieved herself of a day's worth of coffee. All the while, she could hear a group of multi-colored lady Muppets talking as they applied makeup in the bathroom mirror. They were exchanging gossip about the Chef's excellent orange upside-down-and-a-half-cake and discussing the rumor that Miss Piggy and Kermit had a 'thing.'

Leah came out of the stall and wedged herself between the women, having to bend low to the sink to reach it. She towered the Muppet women.

"Oh, hello there President Leah," the fuzzy pink woman said. "Nice day, isn't it?"

Leah shook her hands clean and talked to the woman through the mirror. "Um, I haven't been outside lately."

The little Muppet women worked their jaws from side to side and looked at one another in excitement. "Well, you really should, it's a day to sing about!"

And with that, the women all proceeded to break into a merry tune about how blue the sky was, how lovely the singing of the birds, and should we figure out with which letter in the alphabet all these things on this beautiful day begin? Quickly the trio bounced out of the bathroom, leaving Leah all alone.

Leah laughed despite herself then thought better of it. Her smile catapulted into a frown as she gazed into the mirror and made an unsuccessful attempt to fix her unwashed and horribly mussed hair.

"God, I'm not cut out for this."

Back in the office, Kermit was waiting for her in the seat across from her desk.

Leah managed civility even though she was still frustrated with her bafflement over current affairs. "What can I do for you, Kermit?"

"Just a few things to go over with you, Ms. Leah," Kermit replied dutifully as he sank into the large chair. "First, we have a three-headed monster in the front foyer demanding a chance to audition for the role in 'I Was a Monster in Eerie Pennsylvania.' I tried to tell him—erm, _them_… _it_—that we couldn't use a three headed monster in the film. Now he's causing a ruckus in the reception area."

Leah cocked an eyebrow and rested her head into her hand. "Fascinating. What's he doing?"

"Um, he's telling bad jokes to clients who are waiting for their appointments."

"Doesn't Fonzy do that already?"

"It's Fozzie, ma'am."

"Fozzie," Leah corrected, disinterested.

They stared at each other in silence a moment before Kermit checked it off his list. "Right, you have a point."

He started the next topic with less business in his tone. "Remember the dance marathon the company was going to have this weekend?"

Leah's face showed that she didn't, but she didn't ask him to explain.

"Well, Miss Piggy got the date wrong in her book; she put it down as last weekend. She, uh, started all by herself and is so mad no one came, she hasn't stopped dancing yet. As a sort of... protest, I guess. I thought maybe _you_ could talk to her."

Leah thought about it a moment and asked, "Can't you do it yourself?"

"Well, you know, I would, but… there's... _talk_ floating around the office." Kermit shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Leah fixed a no nonsense look on the frog. "Just ask her out, Kermit."

Her bluntness flustered him to the highest degree. "Um, excuse me, Ma'am?" His voice squeaked out uncomfortably.

"You heard me. Next order of business." Leah was starting to get a kick out of her new stint of bossiness. It was certainly a skill that came to her naturally.

"Okay, let's see." Still disconcerted by Leah's last statement, it took Kermit a moment to shuffle through his papers and find his next issue. "Ah, yes, there is a company meeting scheduled for this afternoon at three, and there was a gentleman by the name of Damion who is waiting for you downstairs. And don't forget your lunch meeting with the children's programming division today"

Leah was bombarded. "Wait, wait, back up! Damion?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'll be damned."

"Oh no, don't do that. Alice Cooper might give your soul to the Devil… I mean, Miss Piggy almost went that route, and—"

"Send Damion up, Kermit. And, for the record, I don't think I'll be attending those meetings." Leah stood up excitedly. If Damion was here, maybe she could finally get somewhere with current affairs.

"Okay, Ms. Leah, but it would be best that you attended the three o'clock meeting. I mean, we scheduled this last week, and the company really needs to meet their new President."

Leah gave him a sidelong glance. "Scheduled last week? I didn't know I was going to be here last week. Don't tell me _you_ did?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Last week is a blur. Anyhow, haven't you always worked here? It was human resources, right?" Kermit didn't give her a chance to answer; he started out the door and added, "I'll send Mr. Damion up here right away. He seems like such a nice fella."

Within a few minutes, Damion was bustling through the door, a ball of nervous energy and feathers. He was being harassed by a bunch of short, ragged-toothed Muppets who were jumping an incredible height and snapping at his paperwork.

"Get off me, you little rascals! You are dreadful!" He tried to shoo them away with his long ostrich legs, to no avail. "Stop it, you incorrigible beasts!"

Finally he gave up and stomped at them, squawking loudly. They scuttled away at breakneck speed. He turned and entered Leah's office.

"Ms. Leah!" he exclaimed in excitement, half over having found a familiar face, half over having finally rid himself of the furball pests. "Oh, it is really good to see you." He waddled forward and added, "That Kermit seems like such an upstanding fellow."

Leah smiled widely as the tall birdman entered the room, his arms full of unopened envelopes. "Damion! I'm so glad you found me. What's all that you're holding?"

A couple of envelopes peeked out and fell on the floor. He started to reach down to pick them up. "Um, I got a little lost in the mailroom. They thought I worked there, and I couldn't convince anyone otherwise."

"Just put it all down in that chair, there, Damion." He sputtered a bit, and more bits of mail kept popping out and landing on the floor, putting him in a tizzy. Leah simply walked to the other side of the desk and took the mail from him and placed it in the leather-covered seat.

"Th-thank you, Ms. Leah."

"You're welcome." She gently sat him down in the other chair before sitting down again herself. "They assumed I was the President of the company." She motioned to her big office. "Things are getting pretty funny around here."

Damion looked indignant, as if that one word could not possibly sum up the state of affairs. "Funny?"

Fozzie heard the shout and stuck his head in the door as he passed. "Funny looking!" He laughed at himself as he continued in his previous journey.

Leah gave him an _'Oh boy, aren't _you_ hilarious,'_ look before turning her gaze back to Damion. "We have to figure out what's going on Damion."

"I have a theory, Ms. Leah." Damion said in his usual fidgety way.

"Please share."

"I think that Kaleb has complete control of the amethyst. It's the only explanation that makes sense. The power is strong enough to merge Above and Underground. That's the only way we could be here."

Leah nodded in understanding. "But why would he do something like that?"

Damion straightened his glasses on his beak thoughtfully. "More power. With the force of two worlds at your disposal… Well, what would stop you?" He shivered noticeably at the thought.

"You're probably right, Damion. It seems like we're dealing with a great deal of dark power here." She leaned in closer. "While I'm not one to wish that our friends the Muppets didn't have free reign, this just isn't right. I got a bad feeling. I had nightmares all night. I can't shake it."

"Me too, Mistress Leah," Damion answered excitedly, as if overwhelmed with joy at having a partner with whom to share his feelings. "There's a sense… of _foreboding_." He leaned in close to emphasize the statement.

He squawked like a chicken, feathers flying when a voice said behind him, "Oh, please, there's no need for so much _melodrama._"

He turned around to see a slug-like little man with big bushy eyebrows who was sitting in a sort of floating throne.

"Can I please meet with the President, _now_? I have been waiting in the reception area for _a quarter of an arn_." He looked at the two of them with haughty disdain becoming of a king. "I have matters of great importance to discuss with Her Eminence."

He gave Leah a diplomatic nod as if she were his only equal in the building. Leah was having none of it. "Excuse me, who let you in here?"

Kermit stuck a shy head around the corner. "Erm, I couldn't stop him, Ms. Leah."

Leah raised her brow at this new visitor. "What can I do for you…"

"Rygel the Sixteenth, Dominar to the Hynerian Empire."

"Right, Rygel. What's your business?"

Having sensed the tenuous acceptance of his presence in the room, he got straight to the point. "The food in the cafeteria is substandard, and I know an excellent cook we could bring in to improve it."

Just as he finished his statement, the Swedish Chef came barging into the room, flailing a wooden spoon all about and muttering nonsense.

Rygel pointed an accusing, stumpy finger at the fuzzy little man. "It is all _his_ fault! He has suddenly turned vegetarian, and refuses to cook anything worth eating! Pasta without meatballs? Simply preposterous!" The Dominar wiped a bit of spaghetti from his lips, then belched loudly.

"Seems like you're enjoying it just fine," Leah commented dryly.

"Whether I ate it or not is of no consequence, I decline to starve myself because you refuse to hire anything but B-grade chefs!"

The Chef began 'hurdy-gurdying' all over the place, which put the Dominar into a high level of upset. In his nervousness, the creature suddenly felt compelled to break wind.

"Dominar, I don't see—" Leah stopped mid-sentence as she realized she was talking at a high pitch that could only be caused by the release of helium into the air.

If the frog-like man could have blushed, he would have. "_Excuse me_," his voice squeaked out at a tinny pitch.

"You fart _helium_!" Leah declared, astounded. The statement sounded even more preposterous in her current chipmunk voice.

Everyone looked at Rygel with complete amazement before Leah finally spoke up. "Okay, that's it, everyone out of my office!"

She shooed everyone out, heading for the door herself. She turned back to Damion and spoke, the short effects of the helium having completely dissipated from her voice (to her relief.)

"You stay here. I'm going to see if I can find a human with any sense in their head in this place. Maybe they can help me put all this… craziness... into perspective."


	6. Chapter IV Crazy Things

Jareth lounged in the front living area while Marlena and the other witches chatted amongst themselves for the third time about recent events. They were heavy in conversation despite slight effects of post-dinner fatigue. Crowded around the thick couches, they sipped hot tea and balanced serious expressions from their noses.

The former Goblin King was listening, but looked distant. In all his years as a King, he had never been a social butterfly. Long before then, despite all his arrogance and domineering behavior, he had been at his core an introvert. He still became a little uncomfortable amongst large crowds. This was the first time he realized that he was actually quite intimidated by women in general, because he felt even less inclined to participate than usual. They looked so intense and purposeful, five women of power and sophistication in one place, plotting the downfall of his beloved Sarah.

It gave him a little twinge of guilt. And a headache to boot.

"Well, we do have the advantage that Sarah doesn't even know us," Brenda commented. Her look was reminiscent of Fara Fawcett, blonde curls sweeping back from her head in a style that was retro yet modern.

Jareth's interest was piqued. He found the longer the conversation continued, the more his stomach turned. So he turned his head away and propped it on his fingers to look out the windows of the shop where a crazy slew of characters meandered past.

A fiery gentleman in a Nike running outfit pressed his face against the window and stuck his tongue out at Jareth, who only raised his eyebrow in response.

Marlena smirked, rose from her seat amongst the rest of her coven, and promptly closed the curtains. The fiery looked up at her, slightly disappointed, stuck his tongue out at her, and put his headphones on to continue his jog.

The Irish beauty continued the conversation from the front of the store. "Is it just me, or have we all just been overly inclined to stay put?" She turned back to her friends with a calculating look in her eye.

The other women looked at each other thoughtfully. Jareth watched Marlena with an expression of complete awe. "You are absolutely correct," he said, shaking his head at the thought. "Paranoid. I think we've all been too afraid to leave the premises."

Gail swallowed the last of her cup and sat it down like a period on the end of the sentence. "Maybe she does know about us."

"I don't think so," Marlena answered. "But if we confront her, and she finds out we're connected with Jareth in any way… She'll know that we would never risk the chance of killing her. That'll be a big enough piece of information to keep her from fearing us. She'll know that, no matter what we are capable of, we are never going to do anything more than her most dangerous option."

Jareth let out a startled laugh at the idea. "Sarah would never."

"Kill someone?" Gail said wryly with a soft British accent.

Ashley shivered. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Hon."

"Just look at the city," Brenda replied, a twinge of country girl wonder under her urban girl manner.

Jareth got very quiet. He put his propped his elbow on his other arm and touched his finger to his lip thoughtfully.

Marlena put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She probably wouldn't. But, still, I am betting she even isn't sure what she's capable of doing. We can't underestimate her. She's very powerful. I mean, she's like a power stone at the center of the city. I can feel her throbbing, reaching out everywhere."

Her eyes drifted off as she spoke, as if she was falling under a trance. Jareth touched her hand gently in worry. She quickly came to, then stared back at her companions as they gave her heated gazes full of worry.

"Marlena, something's happening to you," Gail said tenderly. "Everyone's been changed by this, but it's affecting you more than any of us."

The redhead sat down on the couch again and smiled delicately. "I'm sorry, really, don't worry about me."

"As if we wouldn't," Ashley said with a smirk.

"Right, right." Marlena pretended to brush them off, but there was a sense that she understood their concern, but was merely changing the topic for expediency.

"What's so bad about the way things are?" Ashley blurted out innocently. "I've never been so in touch with my powers. And it's such a blast! Crazy things happening all the time!"

The quiet Ling squinted her eyes at Ashley circumspectly. "Ashley, really. C'mon."

"Alright, alright." Ashley pouted in her corner of the couch. Ling continued to stare at her like a disappointed mother. "It was just an idea!" Ashley blurted out suddenly as she threw her hands up in the air and crossed her arms.

"I should really be the one to go talk to her," Jareth finally said.

"No!" Marlena shouted. "That's exactly what she'd want. And you're in no position to go up against her, I'm sorry to say."

"Well, perhaps I could convince her the error of her ways," Jareth offered, already quite aware what he suggested wasn't feasible.

"When a woman puts her mind to something," Brenda answered, "then anything short of the gates of Hell swallowing her whole ain't going to stop her."

"Thanks for your comforting sentiments," Jareth answered tartly.

His strange and sudden poutiness made everyone uncomfortable, except for Ashley, who merely growled at him like a cat under her breath. This caused a ruckus when all the other women heard her and started laughing uncontrollably.

"Women." Jareth turned away again, but this time he couldn't look out the window, so he stared at a semi-interesting fertility goddess statue. This only made him feel worse, so he closed his eyes.

Ling looked sad. "Oh, c'mon guys, you've upset him."

Brenda controlled herself as Marlena gave them all a reproachful glare. "Okay, okay, okay."

"So the original plan was that Jareth and Toby were going to find Kaleb and cast a spell together to separate him from Kaleb soundly, without killing the both of them." Marlena tried to pick the original conversation back up to leave behind the tittering.

"I don't understand. How were Kaleb and Jareth connected?" Brenda asked.

Jareth ceased his own pouting to explain how he had traveled through the Shadow Mountains almost a century ago and had unwittingly picked up a hitchhiker; his true shadow. In his case, his shadow self was completely evil, and had used the magic of the crystals to take over his body throughout the years. Four years ago Sarah had embarked on a quest that, through the help of the elves, had separated him from his shadow in body. However, they were still connected in life force, and if one were to be killed, the other would feel the pangs of death, as well. But there was a spell that could separate them, and it was essential for the person to be involved in the casting. However, Jareth's powers were all but gone, and he needed the help of another sorcerer to cast it. Specifically someone of close relations to the main caster. Jareth had sought out Sarah to do this originally, until Kaleb had kidnapped her and forced him to seek the help of Toby, who had brought himself to New York to find his sister.

"Why would Sarah have been here?" Ashley asked. "I thought she lived Underground."

"Well, see, Sarah has her own shadow… Leah has taken her place Aboveground, and apparently has business in New York quite a bit. To recent events, Toby has known Leah as his sister."

"This just gets more confusing by the moment," Ashley answered. "So what about this Kaleb guy? How is he involved in all of this?"

"Sarah had inadvertently helped to separate me from my shadow when she acquired the ancient amethyst stone that the elves had kept hidden for a century. She found it in order to keep it away from me. Under Kaleb's influence, I didn't have the best intentions for its use. I touched her the moment after she found it, and unwittingly passed Kaleb to the amethyst through her. Somehow he used its power to create his own physical form, but being still weak, he was only able to take a small form, and a small piece of the amethyst, which through a small struggle, had fallen from a great height and shattered into three pieces."

He continued to explain the events that had led them to this day. How Sarah became queen of the city he once ruled, and, four years later, threw a celebration of independence to which she invited all kingdoms to join her already formed alliance of nations. By that time, Kaleb had found a new form and had developed his powers fully. He approached her as a suitor and king to a fake kingdom, trying to beguile his way into her life to get his hands on the remaining pieces of the stone. Jareth, too, had sought to use the celebration as a means of ingratiating himself to Sarah again, and to get her help in separating himself from Kaleb so he might find the man and destroy him.

Jareth did not know that Kaleb had already found a body, and that he was intending on wooing Sarah for his own reasons. Chaos broke loose suddenly in the city as a hoard of crows began infecting all of Underground with negative emotions, causing everyone in the kingdom to go into a violent frenzy. The problem with the magical birds had been slowly developing, and was the original reason a seven-nation council had come to meet earlier in the celebration. The battle in the castle out into a full-scale catastrophe. Before Sarah could get it under control, Kaleb found the amethyst and kidnapped her, just as Jareth and Sage were beginning to get an inkling of exactly what form Kaleb had taken.

As he last knew, Sarah was hidden in Kaleb's fortress, and his other companions were going to stop the crows, figure out where Kaleb was keeping Sarah, while Jareth found Toby and began preparations for the spell.

"Wow, what a story!" Brenda exclaimed with large eyes. "I feel like I'm smack dab in the middle of a Terry Brooks novel."

"Somehow, Kaleb did this to her," Marlena muttered thoughtfully.

Jareth mulled it over a moment. "The amethyst is an interesting specimen. If touched by any ill will, any spirit of evil, its powers transform. I don't fully understand it… But if Sarah reacquired it in his domain, she might have been affected by it. Because, as I understand it, during the four years it was in her possession, she decided never to use it—thanks to Sage's wise admonishing."

"She'd fight that sort of change," Gail said quietly yet matter-of-factly. "From how you've described her to date, Sarah isn't one to be pushed over."

Jareth was taken aback by Gail's statement, because it mirrored something he had been thinking in the back of his mind since the insanity began. He looked Gail deep in the eyes, and saw something unfamiliar reflected there. _Like I can't pin down where her soul comes from…_

She broke his reverie as she continued. "I mean, that sounds like a plausible conclusion, but there's got to be more to this."

"Which we won't find out until we find Sarah," Ling decided.

Marlena nodded somberly in response. "But we will. Jareth's teacher is on that right now."

"Damn Eberon!" Jareth cursed abruptly. "This is all his fault, the damned scheming—"

"Now, who's that?" Ashley asked with a smirk.

Jareth sighed. "Oh, that's another story entirely. He's the one whose betrayal helped Kaleb find the crystal. Just a foolish elf king who Sage, for some reason I'm not yet aware of, has less than an ounce of trust for. And if Sage doesn't trust him—"

Gail's gaze moved to Marlena. "Mar?"

Marlena's eyes glazed over and her cheeks flushed. "I-I don't know. It's…" She drifted off and closed her eyes, as if in pain. Jareth rushed to catch her as she began to faint. The other women ran to support her, as well.

"Marley!" Ashley shouted, putting her hand on the woman's cheek. "What's wrong?"

Marlena looked at Ashley, then looked at Jareth as if she was having trouble focusing on him. A strange fear rose up in Jareth's gut. He was suddenly reminded of the time he ran to see if Sarah was okay after nearly hurtling to her death atop the back of a fallen Spangore. It was nearly four years ago, but it still sent a sharp pang in his chest.

Like so many other memories.

Composure was not quickly coming to the increasingly melting Marlena. Her last words before falling completely limp in Jareth's strong grasp were, "Eberon… the bastard. The bastard!"

Jareth was still in quite a bit of shock, but managed to lift the woman and lay her down on the couch. The attack itself came rather suddenly, but her last words left him even more perplexed than her sudden loss of consciousness. _Could women stop fainting on me just once?_

The coven crowded around frantically. "What's wrong with her? Someone, anyone?" Ashley kneeled next to her friend, putting a gentle but trembling hand to Marlena's damp forehead.

"Is she breathing?" Ling asked fearfully.

"Yes, yes, but… she's so warm," Ashley answered nervously.

Brenda gripped Gail's arm. "Maybe we should try some spells, or bring in some herbs—"

"No, just let her rest," Gail interjected with a nod. "Something's upset her. Give her some time to come to on her own."

Brenda looked to Jareth questioningly, as if thinking he might hold the answer that Marlena's closest friends did not possess. He returned with a lost gaze that moved to the sleeping figure of the woman. She was troubled even in her slumber, gently clawing at the pillows in dismay. Some tears squeezed from her eyes despite her repose.

"Oh Goddess," Ashley mumbled, kissing her friend's hand. "She's freaking out!"

Gail put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "Come, Ashley, help me get her bedroom ready for her to sleep."

Ashley nodded somberly and walked with her, letting her gaze linger on the troubled face of Marlena.

Marlena finally pulled away, walking somberly ahead of Gail up the stairs to the bedrooms. Gail's faced was painted in a frown, a sort of purposeful bitterness reflected in her eyes.

They disappeared up the stairs while the other women stood around uncomfortably to watch. Jareth sat in a chair near the couch and let out a deep sigh, running his fingers through his hair in agitation.

Brenda looked at Jareth purposefully. "What was that? What just happened?"

"I don't know," he breathed. "Eberon? Why would mention of Eberon trouble her so?"

"She was delirious," Ling offered. "She didn't know what she was saying." Marlena was beginning to calm a bit. "Maybe it was the change. Maybe it did something to her."

Jareth rested his head in his palm and looked at the woman, taking in the situation. He wished he knew the answer.

"Maybe her memory is returning?" Ling almost whispered, herself disbelieving.

Toby walked into the room from the storage area behind the stairs. Didymus sauntered along in tow, quickly tensing at the sight of Marlena's sleeping figure.

"What's going on?" Toby pressed.

"Marlena has fainted, Toby," Brenda answered as she walked to the boy.

"Is she okay?" he asked with a look of sincere worry.

"We don't know," Brenda said with a sad smile. She brushed the boy's bangs of hair aside and followed his eyes to the couch. "It seems like she's not really hurt or anything."

Didymus' brow arched from side to side as he stepped forward. "Fair maiden? She will be well… won't she?" He wrung the large hat in his paws in agitation.

Toby approached the couch timidly and took a good look at her. "She's having a bad dream," he said. He sat down beside her with little trepidation, and began stroking her hand. "It's okay, Marlena. It's just a bad dream. It will be okay." His words seemed to soothe her, and her body relaxed as her eyes twitched in the onset of REM sleep.

"That seems to have helped, Toby," Jareth said quietly as he watched the gentle healing powers of the child's voice. He felt the young boy's words washing over him, startling out of him a reverence for youth and innocent love. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately. "I was beginning to worry over you, you were gone quite awhile."

"I was just talking to Didymus." Toby left out the story of the gnomes; they had disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, and he sensed that the current moment was inappropriate for exposition.

Gail and Ashley returned from the second floor, their faces taut with worry. The bald black woman was more stern-looking than normal, her soft, elfin features suddenly sharpened with angry purpose. Despite her condition, she offered the jittery Ashley gentle smiles as they came to Marlena.

"She looks better, see?" Gail comforted.

Ashley nodded. "Can you help me get her upstairs?" Ashley asked Jareth. He responded by gently lifting Marlena from the couch.

The slatted wooden stairs and floor groaned as they climbed up then down the hallway. At the end of the hall they reached a large room, teeming with green life. In the middle was a luxurious, yet simple bed. The women had prepared the room by pulling back the covers and lighting a few of the many candles that adorned the walls and tables.

Once they had laid her on the bed, together Jareth and Ashley took off Marlena's shoes and socks, then slid her under the covers and tucked the covers around her. Jareth stood by Ashley as they looked on to see that she still seemed well. Once he noticed that Ashley was crying again over her friend's state, he wrapped his arm, albeit awkwardly, around her small shoulders and kissed her on the head.

"All will be well," he whispered. "Don't fret. She is stronger than all of us."

"She would want us to not worry," Ashley affirmed. "Because she always sees an answer around the corner."

Jareth smiled wanly. "That's where the answers wait."

"And pounce." Ashley chuckled slightly in spite of herself.

Jareth gave her a firm squeeze before leading her out of the room and closing the door.

As it sat slightly ajar, he couldn't take his eyes away from Marlena, whether in the love that can bloom so quickly for a kindred spirit, or out of sheer concern for a gentle woman. He realized in that moment that it was probably possible to fall in love with more than one woman, to have more than one potentially true love in one's life. He had made his choice in love, but he spoke a silent chant of hope in his soul for the red headed beauty. She was worthy of a good life filled with love, and he would do whatever he could to help her on her path, as she had so selflessly done for him the last two days.

With that, he closed the door, and walked down the lonely hall, where the other women waited for answers he would not have. He did his best not to let it trouble him. There was trouble enough as it was.


	7. Chapter V Dark Queen

Roiling clouds drifted over the bright moons, still so full that the planet must have been sitting still in its orbit, the Eastern Time zone cloaked in eternal night. But it was just dramatic overtones—it was only eight at night, and a new day only thirteen hours away.

The sidewalk of the Times Square area was buzzing with activity, freakish and frenzied and frenetic, just as it always was. A group of Japanese tourists were chattering amongst themselves in awe as they passed the 54th Street Broadway theater, then became deathly silent in a different sort of awe as Sarah, dark queen of the all-encroaching chaos, walked past them with a purposeful and powerful gait.

As they snapped a picture of her dominating figure, she flashed a sly scarlet smile and piercing blue eyes in their direction, as if knowing that celebrities had to pose just so for even the chance photographic opportunities.

The mesmeric beauty ruled the pseudo-cobblestone sidewalks without effort as creatures and people alike were taken by her. A young boy riding his bike ran into a light pole and chuckled uncomfortably as he brushed himself off and surveyed the damage of his bike.

She was already half a block long gone when she gave a nonchalant flick of her wrist, and the bike was better than new. All he saw was the swaying curtain of her black, shiny hair as she turned the corner. He would have thought it astounding if his grip on life hadn't been so disturbed already in the last couple of days.

Minutes later, she flew into the new and improved Le Parker Meridien Hotel, all presence and rush, mimicking the flurry of a rich cape in a simple tuxedo-cut blazer.

The gray button gloves that came just up to her wrists were instantly removed, revealing the pitted point of her long black sleeves. She carried the gloves in one hand, eyeing the reservations desk from afar, giving the creatures that worked busily there a nod of business. This simple gesture commanded a sudden flurry of activity.

Her v-neck peek-a-boo collar was trimmed with black silk lapels that teasingly framed the pale dip between her breasts—not completely revealing anything, but making no attempt to hide her feminine guiles with any sort of camisole. Two smart buttons held the remaining matte fabric daringly in check, not shining nearly so much as the silver necklace above them, which was adorned with bits of amethyst cut into organic shapes.

"Dearest Lady Sarah!" a furry horned gentleman in a red silk suit preened as he rolled out of the office next to the reservations desk. "How glad we are to have you staying at our hotel!"

He made a motion to kiss her hand and she ignored it, frowning upon him with no reasonable lack of satisfaction. She frowned because it was her place to do so.

"I assume my room is ready?" she said dismissively.

The concierge shook an agitated hand at an elf-like boy standing behind the counter, a little too earnest and a little too obvious. He turned his falsely untroubled gaze back to Sarah. "Oh, yes, of course. We have only given you the best room in the house! The penthouse suite for your Ladyship, if it so pleases her." He lurched forward in an overly eager supplication.

Behind him, two goblins in suits and sashes were less than generously escorting a well-dressed business-being out of the elevator with pokey sticks.

The concierge gave Sarah a cloying smile. "Ah, I see it is ready."

Sarah's prim eyebrows curved ever so slightly in amusement over her own power. "Very well then. Take me up. And please call NBC studios and tell them I will be arriving in forty-five minutes."

"Anything Her Ladyship desires!" the concierge cooed as he gently prodded her toward the elevator. The click-clack of her high-heeled shoes filled the suddenly quiet room as she walked across the marble floors. Every whisper was enhanced as it echoed off the color-treated maple walls.

As she turned forward and surveyed the wide-eyed stares that had been following her into the elevator, a little smile tugged at the corners of her perfectly made up lips.

"We will be most pleased to provide you with a limousine, and anything else you could need during your stay, most gracious one. Let me just say you look stunning in that number. Who was the designer?"

As the doors clothed, she shrewdly replied, "Me, of course."

"Ah, why yes, I should have known! You are so wonderfully talented!"

Sarah closed the door of the room behind her, glad to be rid of the sloppy quivering of the concierge. She walked purposefully to the northernmost window of the expansive room and drew the curtains open. A sprawling view of Central Park awaited her, trees glowing with a variety of colors in the lamplight far below. 

She gave the room a once-over, taking in the lovely decor. Most of the furniture used a more modern and sleek Swedish design, low to the ground and not ornately elegant, but careful to details nonetheless. Tones of slate blue, heather green and soft gray added warmth to the natural woods creating a refined, intimate space. Unlike the other rooms in the hotel, the penthouse suite sprawled on for what seemed like eternity, a large open space with many nooks and crannies in a hip-high wall full of tables and custom-inset couches for relaxing. The entertainment center looked over a large stretch of living area, sitting within the smooth polish of a cherry-wood wall with slender doors to hide all the other attached equipment.

Once many years ago Sarah had had the fortune of staying a night in Le Parker Meridien on business for the advertising firm for which she had been working. In most respects the hotel had been perfect for her tastes, so she had left it as one of the few untouched buildings in the Times Square area when she combined worlds.

She put a few hairs in place as she gazed upon her reflection in a large circular mirror trimmed with a rim of frosted glass. A scratch against the north window tore her away; it was the large Spangore bird named Claw flapping mid-air and tapping with his beak. She motioned him toward the newly created patio that hung with menace from the great height at the top of the hotel.

Sarah slid the door open and welcomed the bird inside.

"Claw," she addressed him shortly as she gave a challenging look over the terrace before coming indoors herself.

He gave a look over his shoulder to the twisting, malformed remains of New York City. "Love what you've done with the place."

She nodded her appreciation. "I'm still working on it."

"I imagine it can always be a work in progress," he mumbled as he ambled through the sleek clean space. "Interesting concept of interior design you Aboveworlders have," he said with a sense of deep curiosity.

"I take it you don't object," Sarah said with a smirk. Though she could really care less what anyone thought about her taste in decor, there was no need to be impolite.

"Why should I?" The bird arched a brow as he settled into the soft cushions of a very wide and deep couch. He looked as if he was nesting.

She ambled airily behind a large curved wooden wall to the mostly open bathroom and started a shower as she continued to talk to her companion. "Don't get too comfortable. We're only staying here the night. I'm working on our permanent home as we speak. Just a few more bugs to work out."

Claw had become so comfortable it looked as if he had already fallen asleep. "How do you manage the concentration for all of this?" the bird said suddenly, his eyes still closed.

"I'm getting it with a little practice," she admitted while stepping into the shower. "I'm not doing it all alone, though. Funny how people's years and years of fantasizing about the unattainable becomes a subconscious activity."

"What do you mean?" Claw had opened one eye to survey the space again.

"Ever heard of consensual realities?"

The bird answered so shortly, he could have been talking in his sleep. "No."

The shower was over almost before it had begun. Sarah was once again fully dressed, running her fingers through her instantly dry hair. She sat across from the bird, casually draping her arm over the back of the couch, dressed in a cap-sleeve shirt with a deep diamond-cut neckline trimmed in lace. Her hip-hugging sash-belt hung lazily over the iridescent gray of her tapered leg pants. She toyed with the ornate onyx and amethyst-beaded choker that came to an arrow point low on her chest.

She needed to have at least one companion who understood her thinking so that she could execute her plans more effectively. "There's a sort of metaphysical theory that everyone has their own personal reality. Because so much of existence is influenced by perception, and we each perceive the world around us differently, then, for us, that is our own unique reality, our own dimension of existence." She swiveled her hand and was instantly holding a slender chalice of merlot. The burgundy liquid met her lips and seemed to merge with the color of her lipsticked mouth.

She continued while Claw looked at her intently. "A consensual reality is where all of these differing opinions on existence come together. As a whole, we create the world as it is. This idea of existence leads to another conclusion... that, were one to adjust their way of thinking, to learn to harness the power of their own perception, they could influence this world by the sheer power of their mind. This is where the practice of magic comes in."

"Hmm," Claw said with a keen look. "I always thought that magic was the manipulation of energy."

"Well, what is the will but a sort of energy, Claw?" she said pointedly.

He nodded as if thinking on it further. "Continue, this is very interesting indeed."

"Most of these theories," Sarah continued as she sipped her wine, "are ones come to by those living Aboveground. Sure, there are also those Underground who surmised such things, but perhaps they were less prevalent because, on your world, magic was very out in the open. While on my world people mastered science and energy, in your world they mastered the power of the will."

Sarah rose from her seat and looked out the window, as if pointing to an illustration. "What we now have is a world where both exist. A mastery of will and energy. The lines that were drawn are now gone."

"How did you come to all of this?" Claw said as he rose and shook his tail feathers.

"I had a revelation during my research in Kaleb's castle," she said.

"What revelation?"

She smiled broadly, carnivorously. "The mind is made up of the Id, the Ego, and the Super Ego. The Underground and Aboveground are the Id and the Ego. Each world is the dream, the subconscious, of the other. Each reality cannot manifest itself in the opposing world because there is nothing to unify the two. And I have a theory about that, too."

Claw was entranced by the amazing story she was unfolding. "What?" he said almost mechanically, in awe.

"Something happened millennia ago to split the two apart. There's no direct history around it, but there's a hint of stories of a world where the two simultaneously existed. Look at books like Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, for instance"

"Excuse me?" Claw broke out of his trance, confused.

"A book from my world," she clarified. "It talks of a time when magic was prevalent, where elves and man lived in the same world. That is until the age of man, when all creatures of magic went elsewhere—who knows where?" She was heated, caught up in the passion of her ideas. "I think we all have a _genetic_..." she corrected herself for clarity, "an _innate_ sense of how things once were. This is why each world creates fantasy tales about the other. On my world we write about elves and unicorns, and on yours, about machines and calculus." She arched a brow at him as he digested the new information.

He shivered his feathers nervously. "This is quite a bit to come to terms with," he admitted. "I am quite amazed that you came to all of this on your own."

"While I was queen of Sunset City, I pored over the histories, and I began to come up with this theory. It wasn't until I had full power of the amethyst that I could see that I was probably correct." She smiled with satisfaction over her own genius.

"And so it seems you were." The large bird looked amazed as he gazed over Central Park. "So what does the consensual reality theory have to do with the mental focus required to create all of this?"

"Well, that is the catch. While I can be the guiding will for the world, I cannot control it fully unless I can convince the whole world to buy into this reality. It doesn't take much, just a bit of persuasion, but until I can get most of their consciousness focused on the way things are now, it is going to be very difficult to hold it together."

"Everyone?" he asked, incredulously.

"Not everyone, but a majority," she answered.

"That's still quite a catch," he said in a gruff voice. "What happens if you don't?"

"Well, it will fall apart, of course," she answered nonchalantly.

"Then what will you do?" he said, amazed that she could give such bad news so carelessly.

"It won't happen, so don't worry about it," she finished the conversation with a sharp tug on a new coat that hadn't been there before.

"How do you know that?" Claw asked suspiciously.

She gave him a cool smirk. "Because all they really need is an icon to follow. And I am going to be that icon." She snapped her fingers, and Claw was decked to the nines in his own leather jerkin. She opened the door for him to leave. "We have an appointment now. Our transportation should be waiting for us downstairs."

As they headed out the door, Claw asked one more question. "You said there was a Super Ego... What would that be?"  
"Well, that would be the part of the mind in charge of pulling all the pieces, the Id and Ego, together."

Claw smirked neatly. "And that—of course—would be you."

"You are—of course—correct," Sarah answered, returning his smirk and closing the door behind them with finality.


	8. Chapter VI Inevitable Chaos

A single light flickered in the corner of the alley, casting shadows that hinted to the shapes of grotesque creatures of a wide variety, most likely including that of the realm of goblins.

Little feet seemed to scurry to and fro from one trash can to another, but it could have simply been the play of the light. The bulb seemed alive, moody and impudent in its pulsating. The shadows sucked into their corners tightly as the source of the light flew out of the glass covering that had housed it.

The source was a giggling faery. Her silvery green wings shimmered and glowed as she flew about manically, giggling and poking little dark creatures inside their trash can hideaways until they fled from the scene, grumbling and grunting their disagreement over her drunken behavior as they found a new place to cower.

One dark shadow sat still, not petulant but patient. The little faery fluttered cautiously toward it and poked it with her foot. It did not move, but seemed instead to shrink and swell. It did not display the normal protruding appendages of a living thing, and it certainly did not hold the demeanor of an _irritated_ something. Instead of pleasing the faery, this seemed to irritate her greatly. She poked at it grumpily until she finally got a reaction.

The amorphous shadow suddenly engorged and swallowed the little faery whole. Immediately after, the alley was enshrouded in darkness.

Across the way a gang of beings glided down the sidewalks, their hover-skis making no sound as they stealthily slunk into the neighborhood. Those in traffic who had seen them cowered behind their steering wheels, hoping to go unnoticed by the bandits.

They were the Trashlings, their label easily assigned thanks to the burly eskimo-style coats they wore that were made almost entirely of ruffles of gray garbage bags. They were the pack rats of the new land, and, though they had not existed two days ago, they were now on the scene as if they had always been there. They were fast-moving shadows themselves, a blur of black plastic with a tip of a sharp nose to lead as they skated on in search of trash and trouble.

One particularly sharp Trashling named Gleert noticed the cessation of a flickering light in the alleyway. He creeped silently into the area and his eyes went afire, lighting the trash with a glow that was bright and greedy in nature.

He reached his spindly fingers through the bags in search of the something bright and shiny that must have disappeared into the folds of smelly garbage. "There's something bright and light and not of night," his voice chimed in quiet undertones. "Come out wherever you are."

As he moved the trash can aside, he noticed the glob of darkness in the corner. It shrunk from the greater intensity of the light of his eyes, but stayed in its position of yore. "Ah," Gleert continued curiously. "There is also something here that is of night."

The Trashling pulled a glass jar from a deep fold in his coat and unscrewed the lid. Gently he placed the jar over the dark shadow and scooped it up, closing the lid tight before hiding it again in the folds of his clothing. "This will be good to share." He patted his coat gently in satisfaction before gliding out of the alley again. "I think I've found the best treasure yet."

* * *

Jeremiah stepped from the shadow of the alley once the Trashling had left with his dark bounty. A large eye peered behind him, glittering in the moonlight as it opened languidly to observe the same scene. It seemed impossible that a man and a large beast could be so completely enshrouded by the dark alley, and as their forms gradually emerged in the dim light of the two moons as it filtered down the alley, it was obvious that it could have only happened with the use of magic, be it their own, or the mysterious presence of the shadow spot that had inhabited the space moments before.

"He has no clue what it is he's found," the deep voice of the creature at Jeremiah's back purred.

"What's more fascinating is that he has no recollection of the changeover." The old man's hand rose to pick at his beard thoughtfully.

"Why are we following these buffoons?" the beast growled irritably.

"We're not following them anymore. They found something interesting for us, and now we can find something else interesting to observe."

"Fickle old fart," the voice insulted with a sparkle of teeth. A pointed tongue licked satisfactorily at a fur-lined black lip. "The damn dark spot is the most interesting thing we've seen all day. Everything else is the same old, same old. Same old moons, same old stories, same old stupid, reckless Jareth of yore. We've seen it all before—too many times, I might add."

"And you say I am fickle, you fiendish femme," Jeremiah spat back playfully as he climbed onto the back of the animal. "I wouldn't make light of the little black blob in the jar, just as I once told you not to make light of the stupid oaf that brought us where we are now," he added ominously.

"Oh yes? Please enlighten me. I know you are dying to."

"That little black hole is the doom we have been seeking. Chaos is inevitable."

The large animal purred a vibrating, machine-like purr. "Chaos? Doom?"

"Let's dig up some more dirt, shall we?" Jeremiah leaned back onto the back of the beast and held her fur tightly as her silhouette rose into the sky and arced gracefully across the bright white of the two moons.

* * *

Back at Marlena's shop, Toby and Jareth spent some time hunkered down on the velvet couches talking about Jareth's past experiences with Sarah. Rattlebeak sat across from them, telling his side of the story, and how the two of them had pitted against Jareth's challenges in search of the Amethyst stone of elfin lore. Toby was mesmerized. He couldn't believe that he had not recalled these adventures, but had dismissed them as hazy dreams. Anything was possible! While he knew he should be distrustful of Jareth for causing these things to happen, he felt instinctively that Jareth was sorry for what he had done and wanted to make things better. 

And, deep down, Toby was sort of grateful for the adventure that was unfolding. How would he ever be able to keep this a secret? He couldn't tell anyone, or his mom and dad would call that therapist again, who always talked to him in this crooning adult tone, peeling away layers in search for the seed of Toby's craziness.

It made Toby feel ill every time he thought about her. He wished he could take Jareth to see her, to tell her it was all real, to do a magic trick that would make her shut her mouth and go find her own therapist.

Jareth drew a picture and handed it to him. Toby's face looked back in graphite, with Rattlebeak on his shoulder. In Toby's hands was a crystal sphere. The boy smiled with intense joy and the stars twinkled in the sky outside of the shop windows.

The caravan in the mist had been walking almost two hours, and the sun had not yet set. For many of the travelers, their bodies shouted that it was late in the night, while the sky screamed late afternoon. The humidity of the damp mists had only begun to dissipate, while the lingering discomfort hung wet on the brow of each traveler. Eberon seemed to be having the worst time during the journey, as he had become most accustomed to the soft life of a king, and had long since given up athletic pursuits.

"I wonder if this place is still as it was on the other side," Granen commented circumspectly as he gazed about. "Ha'n't seen no apparitions yet, but I keep expecting them any moment."

"I'm sure they're not much different on this world. Our friends Albert and Wonggu have already spoken of seeing odd things in the mists Aboveground," Sage answered somewhat breathlessly as they all walked up a steep incline.

"We get used to'em," Albert said with a nod. "Not so strange. Much to be learned in the dreamtime. Man can learn his fear and conquer it, to be stronger."

"The Mists are just overblown tales of old, just like most stories," Eberon answered sourly. "Mortals are foolish when encountered by the fae. I don't even see how anyone can get so caught up in those illusions."

Albert raised an eyebrow at this comment and looked to his friend Wonggu curiously, while Sage gave the elf king a sidelong glance full to the brim with daggers.

"Talk like that get you in trouble," Albert mumbled thoughtfully as he put the end of a stick in his mouth to chew on. Wonggu laughed at Albert's comment, as if he knew all too well what the man meant. Soon the two were sharing a fit of laughter, but their mirth ebbed soon.

The scene melted into quiet, with just the sound of footsteps on sand to announce the presence of the travelers. Albert and Wonggu's feet rolled gracefully out onto the ground, familiar and effortless in their movement.

* * *

Later that night, Eberon was attacked by a fire-haired harpy. He fell on the ground, swatting petulantly at the beast. Eepwot, Granen, and Mandelbrot burst into jelly-kneed guffaws as they watched the spectacle. Sage bent close to Eberon's side with a smirk on his own face, and put a firm arm on the elf king's shoulder. Eberon shoved him away, but Sage merely became more forceful.

"Eberon! Get a grip! It's just the mists!"

It took Eberon a few more moments of shouting to quiet down. The illusion passed, and he sat still on the ground, pouting.

"I should hope nuthin' real gets at'im, at that rate," Granen blurted with an Celtic laugh.

* * *

Claw flew through the queen's open windows of her room. His silver-tipped toes clicked on the marble as he approached. 

"Sarah, I have gotten a tip from a citizen that some humans are taking up residence at a shop downtown."

Sarah looked up from a map that she had freshly created, observing how the territories and landmasses of Earth had changed in the transformation. The bird's news brought a smile to her lips.

"Really?" She changed the face of the map to illustrate the downtown area. "Show me."

The bird hung over the map and pointed to a spot with his beak. It lit up.

She couldn't believe it! Right under her nose. She concentrated with great effort, but there was a bright orange haze surrounding the place, and she couldn't penetrate it. Magic, or was it some leftover debris from the changeover?

"Send someone there," Sarah commanded. "Come back and tell me who is there."

The wind moaned ominously in Jeremiah's ears as he kept his head low to the long-haired mane of the Ingeborg the Fellwit as she arced gracefully over the sky and through the low, rosy clouds. The long iridescent fur on her lanky body was a little wider than sewing thread, smooth and supple. It blew close to her lizard-like body like waves of grain in a field. She had bronze stripes down her back that went all the way to the end of her ferret-like tail. A full mane adorned her perpetually smug lemuresque face, the hair of which was the apparent source of torment for Jeremiah as he kept pulling strands from his mouth in irritation. Her bat wings also had a soft fir on the back that bristled in the wind as they flapped.

"You need to have your hair trimmed," he groaned as he found another long hair in his aging beard.

"Shut up, _old man_," Ingeborg offered sarcastically with her almost German accent. "I'm not letting you touch it. Don't you know a woman's beauty is trapped in the locks of her hair?"

"Assuming the woman has any beauty to trap in the first place," he replied acerbically.

"You know I despise you," the Fellwit purred with a wolfish grin.

"Hmm," was all the old man offered as he craned his neck over the edge of the beast fearlessly to get a better view. It was apparent that they had such verbal diatribes all the time and had become used to one another. Or even did it for fun.

He held the strap of the saddle firmly and inched to the edge of her wide torso.

"So you see now?" she asked, interested.

"Yes. Their numbers are growing. I wonder what it will be like once she makes a formal move."

The topic of conversation was a light drove of creatures walking purposefully along the plains of the Mid West, with a balance of heavy vehicular traffic on the highway.

"Maybe she already has," Ingeborg stated callously.

"I certainly wouldn't be surprised," he answered as he moved back to his seat.

"You're surprised every time, you old fart," she answered with whiskery snort. "All these years we've been together, you're always surprised when they get the one-up on you. And then—"

Jeremiah's face scrunched up into disgust over an argument that had apparently gotten old many years ago. "I am always on top of it. Yes, my consorts and enemies have gotten the one up, certainly, but I always out-outsmart them in the end!"

"You just finished my point. You always turn it around as if it were your idea. God, you're so predictable." She twitched her large, wet nose unappreciatively. A row of sharp teeth stuck slightly over her pink lip in an overbite.

"Tell me why it is we're having this argument again?" Jeremiah's eyebrows beetled in exasperation. "Besides, we have more important things to deal with."

"Oh yes," Ingeborg said with disdain. "That we do. Always more important things."

"Heavens, I wish I had never agreed to marry you," the old man said with no reserve of loathing.

"You never did, donkey brains. You won me in a bet," the woman replied sniffling. "This joke is old by now." She seemed to be really sad that they _weren't_ married.

Jeremiah snickered under his breath, as if pleased he finally got her to be quiet. Cross-species marriages weren't common Underground, but they did happen now and again, if love could reach across the boundary of biology. Apparently Ingeborg had wished it had.

"She's going to set up her headquarters in the Times building, I am willing to bet," Jeremiah finally mumbled after a long silence. "It's right in the middle of everything. Right in the middle of her favorite stomping grounds. Where all the entertainment industry is concentrated. She can make her best moves there."

"Inner dialogue, meine leibe," Ingeborg blurted.

"I'll speak aloud if I want, shut up you haggard old beast!" Jeremiah spluttered with frustration. "And stop calling me that."

"You like to hear yourself talk too damned much," Ingeborg muttered under her breath.

Jeremiah heard her, but did his best to ignore it. Or at least, he pretended he was ignoring her. It made her more upset in the end, which he liked. "Just take us back to New York so we can do a once-over in Times Square, and see what Jareth and his harem are up to."

The Fellwit turned around silently as bid, but didn't say anything in response. Jeremiah nuzzled his head in her mane and brushed his hands over it soothingly. "Oh, come on Inge, you know I am just giving you hell as always."

Ingeborg purred quietly at his affection and smiled shrewdly, knowing she was always the one to win in the end.

* * *

Marlena walked the dreamlands, a purple grass covering the landscape, disappearing into darkness. She sniffed the air, but could smell nothing. She sat in one place, trying to gather herself, watching as people walked through the fields and into the darkness to dissipate. She knew that their journey was fraught with danger, but she could do nothing to help. If she moved, she too would be drawn into the darkness. 

Instead she focused on remembering who she was, on where she was. She wasn't sure how she had gotten here, but did know that she needed to continue to hide herself. She created a womb of orange light, where nothing could penetrate, which helped to fight the deep temptation to stand up and walk into the void.

Then something distracted her reverie. The face of a woman, sparkling in purple stars in the sky. An intense penetrating gaze that Marlena had to battle to look away from. She increased her resistance and the magic that would hide her. The stars disappeared.

Sarah. She might have found them. There wasn't much time.

* * *

As Leah walked down the hall, she detected sounds from the approaching room that implied something a little different from the hustle and bustle the cafeteria at the Jim Henson Company was probably usually accustomed to. At first, it sounded like a riot. As she turned the corner and got a full view, she saw that she was not far off. A food fight had ensued in the cafeteria, with sundry dishes of a colorful variety being thrown across the room. Food that no chef in his right mind would prepare for a cafeteria line, even for a group of people as notoriously creative as those who had once worked there. Perhaps the one who called himself Rygel had a point. 

Those were Muppets for you. Being as completely silly, freaky, and downright floppy as possible.

She almost braved a step into the room, coming to grips with a sudden onslaught of hunger, and just barely missed a rainbow-colored cream pie. She decided she wasn't quite so hungry after all.

Leah turned around and wound her way down the corridors, barely avoiding conversation or collision with several puppet-creatures on the way.

"Don't they ever go home?" she mumbled under her breath as she looked at the continuing chaos in awe. "It's almost nine at night!"

Pepe the Prawn came out of nowhere and jumped onto her shoulder. "A-no. We live here, ya know? It is, how you say, our favorite place in the whole world. And we should know, ya know, bein' the worldly peoples that we are."

"Uh, it's Pepe, right?" Leah asked with a crinkled brow. She was trying desperately to keep everyone's name straight.

"Oh, the President remembers me!" he cooed. "I wonder if dis means I get a promotion, eh?" He wiggled his stringy brows at her manipulatively.

"You know what, I hear that Kermit needs a little help," Leah prevaricated, trying to get rid of the guy as quickly as possible.

"Really?" His little eyebrow arched deeply. "Doin' a'what?"

"Um, there's trouble at the front desk with a three-headed monster... Perhaps you can use your amazing people skills to convince the monster to go elsewhere?"

"Does this monster, eh, breathe fire?" the prawn prodded.

"I don't think so. As I hear it, he just tells bad jokes."

Pepe lit up, and saluted. "I will take care of dis problem and'a prove to you that I am worthy of a promotion!"

"Yes, you do that, excellent!" Leah exclaimed brightly. Her face fell like a soufflé as he left. As much as she loved the adorable fellows, she was getting a little exhausted by their eternal energy.

Finally she ambled into one room of the creature shop where all the fantastic puppets were made for the once famous Jim Henson productions. To her surprise, she was greeted with a room full of human busts; a variety of people, eerily real, in rubber, in clay, and in full-size costumes. It was the most quiet of the rooms in the building she had found thus far, perhaps because all the Muppets had decided that nine at night was a mandatory time for a war in the cafeteria.

She walked around the room and inspected all the "creatures". As she did, she let her thought wander about her current circumstances.

How had she known that these fuzzy little beings were "Muppets"? Well, the answer was simple. She had once been Sarah's shadow, and having been inexorably tied to her, could see all she saw, feel all she felt, know all she thought… And, yet, had the power to keep her own identity amidst the clutter of Sarah's mind and her own mingling. It was strange for her sometimes, because her memories of that time – or rather, Sarah's memories – were often more vivid and precise than those that came after her human transformation. As a shadow, she had a focus that came with not having anything else to do but watch the actions of another. Perhaps it was part of the magic that had caused her existence in the first place. Whatever it was, sometimes it caused her to have a sensation that the past was more real than the present. In that part of her past, her mind could maneuver through what she had seen as if it were a video recording; she could play moments exactly, and would be transported to that place in time if she just closed her eyes.

As time passed, she felt more and more a strange detachment from herself. But she also felt a lot of still-simmering anger over Sarah, and all the stupidity she had seen her pseudo-sister engage in during her adolescent years. Even as Sarah grew as a woman, Leah felt a pang of distrust for that former self, a former self that somehow Leah felt was currently emerging in Sarah's psyche.

In her musings, she hadn't realized that someone was talking to her. A voice from the shadows said, "Kinda freaky, isn't it?"

She got up and turned around to see a young man step forward, holding a limp puppet of a human in his hands. He started toying with it in such a way that seemed experienced. The little wooden man did a happy, elegant dance, then rested again in his hands.

"Oh thank heavens," Leah sighed. "You work here, don't you?"

The puppeteer laughed. "Yeah, I did until this morning. I went on a coffee break, and I was the only one in the break room… Then I finally come out, and the place is swarming with my fuzzy little friends. Can't say I've gotten much work done since then."

Leah looked more closely at him. He was strikingly handsome, but in a laid back sort of way. He had the air of a person who didn't understand the world in the slightest, and didn't really care to. He had everything important figured out already.

She continued the conversation with an easy chuckle. "No way to get anything done when your fellow coworkers are having food fights in the cafeteria."

"Oh, so that's where they all went? It was getting too quiet around here." He put the puppet down and came forward to shake her hand. "I'm Justin. Senior Puppeteer. Senior jerk who has no clue what the hell is going on."

Leah laughed openly, enjoying the tenderness of his handshake. "I'm Leah. I suppose I have been nominated as the CEO for the company. Kermit told me I was, at least. I've been trying to get a grip on things all day now."

"Wow, Kermit?" Justin seemed truly astounded. "I would think he'd be CEO… Though I guess ole Kirmy never totally enjoyed being in the spotlight." He thought nostalgically about that point, as if he had meant something else by it.

"So, this doesn't freak you out in the slightest?" Leah said, arching a brow.

Justin shrugged. "Yes… and no. I always said this company was so obsessed with creating imaginary places and things, someday everyone was going to get exactly what they wished for. Probably the best thing that ever happened to them, at least, in some individuals' opinions. I guess we can't ask them, now." He walked over to a bust and touched the rubber face. "This was Billy…" He looked around the room. "These are all people who worked here, at least, before this morning. And the puppets they were working on…"

"In a food fight?" Leah asked with a smirk.

"I think so."

"The old switcheroo." Leah shook her head in amazement.

"Do you know what's going on?" Justin pressed, mirroring Leah's somber expression with his own quizzical look.

"Not yet. I think I have an idea of who started this, but beyond that, I'm lost."

He looked at her shrewdly, observing her carefully. "You're not from the company, are you?"

Leah gave him a wan smile. "Nope. I lived in Virginia a couple of days ago. But... I'm not from there, either."

He took a minute to absorb what she had said. "So where are you from? Switzerland?"

"Think, 'Magical fairytale land,'" she answered sheepishly.

He looked like he didn't believe her. His shoulders hunched up and his eyes mere slits. Suddenly he shrugged and chuckled. "Okay then." He put his hands in his pockets. "That means you know a lot more about this than I do."

Leah couldn't help but laugh at his effable approach to the matter. "Not a lot, I assure you." She looked at her watch, feeling more than a little twang of nervousness when she realized how many hours had passed in the dark on the situation at hand. "I just wish I knew what things were like everywhere else. I mean, is it just happening here?"

"There's one way to find out," Justin said. He started out the door, and Leah followed at his side.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they maneuvered through the undulating colors of another magical hallway.

"I think… we are going to the community room. If it hasn't changed any."

Within moments they were in a room full of bulbous couches and strange games that were not suited to Aboveground game rooms. It looked like a mini-carnival.

Justin wormed his way past a fuzzy aardvark and E.T., who were playing their own version of ping-pong. He picked up a few fuzzy-ball men with googly eyes from the top of the large television at the back of the room, and pried off the suctioned tentacles of an octopus-like creature. Just as he was about to turn on the television, it sparked on for him. He jumped back in surprise and looked over to Leah, who returned his bewildered gaze.

It only took a moment for the image on the television to resolve itself into something coherent.

"Sarah." Leah's expression was suddenly morose. Justin seemed to instantly catch onto the seriousness of the situation, and held all his questions at bay.

Sarah's face filled the screen, her black hair in stark contrast to the soft brown it usually reflected. Her formerly brown eyes were deep blue, shimmering with the light of magic. The gentle smile that had so often found her continence had faded into a somber stare, piercing and powerfully dark. She looked like a true sorceress.

Her autumn-brown lips parted, and she began to speak.

"Hello people of this new world. It is not your imagination; everything you know has changed. Today, your dreams and your reality are no longer two separate things. I am the Queen of this new land, and I have brought you all what you have most desired, the chance to bring a world of magic into your daily lives, or for those of magic, a chance to live a semblance of normalcy. No longer are these separate ideals."

The magical camera did not flinch from its position; the only hint of location was a night sky, dotted with the lights of what looked like skyscrapers.

"But this change comes with a price. As I am your new ruler, I expect all of you to make a symbol of your allegiance to me. Send a representative of your people to my castle in the New City to declare your loyalty. And do not think you can slip away unnoticed; I have my eye on all things throughout the land, and know of those who might betray me."

Leah spoke up in Sarah's pause. "The New City… New York?"

Justin looked at her, digesting the idea. He nodded in agreement.

Sarah continued. "This land can be one of order and pleasure, if you stand by me. No longer will your future be dominated by what the gods say you can or cannot have. I have opened up all worlds and knowledge to you; if you bow down to me, I shall let you eat forever of the fruit I have harvested for you.

"If you do not defy me, my love shall be yours until the end of time." Sarah closed with a saccharine smile befitting of tooth-rotting candy. Leah thought with a chill that the smile had been intended just for her.

Then the television shut itself off.

It was at this moment that Leah realized that all the various creatures in the room had become deathly silent, completely tuned in to Sarah's speech. A few familiar faces dotted the room.

Gonzo came forward and tugged on Leah's dress. Leah looked down at him, an expression of deep worry tugging on her brow.

"What should we do?" Gonzo asked in his raspy voice.

Kermit came forward from his position in the doorway. "I don't think she's such a nice lady," he offered. "Maybe she shouldn't be the Queen."

Miss Piggy blustered into the room. "Of course not! If anyone is going to be Queen, it is me. Right Kermy?" She cloyed on Kermit, stroking his fuzzy arm affectionately. His bottom jaw squirmed a bit, unwilling to emit a response.

"No, she is not going to be Queen," Leah said. "She's my sister, and someone has done something to her. If anything, we need to save her from whoever is manipulating her, and put everything back the way it was."

She expected everyone to argue, but they did not. A half-hearted grumble came from the group, and a little chattering back and forth. It was Pepe the Prawn who vocalized their thoughts. "She's'a right, you know. We gotta stop dis thing from happenin', yeah? Everyone gotta be free!"

There was a loud ruckus in response to his pep-talk. The cheerful flopping began.

Leah looked at Justin, who smiled back. "Why not? Let's start a revolution. Makes as much sense as anything has so far today."

Rizzo the Rat hopped onto his shoulder and shouted, "Yeeeeaaah! That's what I'm talkin' about! Do I get a flamethrower? Please?"

Leah laughed in spite of herself. Who knew the turn her day was ever going to take? Only a few days ago, and she had been safe in her apartment, worrying about the next meeting she had with a chemical company that wanted to change its procedures for more environmentally safe ones… Now, that company didn't exist, nor her apartment. And she was planning a revolution with the Muppets, of all things.

Yet, she had indeed had wackier days. Hadn't she?

* * *

Jareth stepped back from the television in disbelief. He ran into Ashley, who had been standing just behind him, watching the disturbing announcement from behind his right arm. Toby and the other women were huddled about, too. Didymus was trying to come to grips with the strange technology, and how he could have just seen his Queen come and go from the room so quickly. 

Toby looked up at Jareth with big, blue eyes. "She can't. We can't let her do it, Jareth." For a ten year old, he was very grown up.

"I know, I know," Jareth muttered with a wan smile.

Marlena came into the room from the stairway, massaging her head tenderly. "What's going on?"

"Marley!" Ashley ran to her friend and hugged her. "How ya doin'? What happened to you?"

"I don't know," Marlena admitted. "I just got dizzy. Must be the not sleeping the last two days."

Her friends ambled over to her softly. Brenda put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Good to know you're okay."

Marlena looked immediately at Jareth. "That was her, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Jareth had run out of words and felt a knot in his stomach so large he thought he might be sick.

Completely ignoring her own situation, Marlena looked to her friends resolutely. "We have to split up," she stated with a grieved expression. "We have to do it tomorrow. She's onto us. And then, we need to find a way to confront her. She's done something terrible, but I can't put my finger on it yet."

Jeremiah walked in at that moment. "You're right. Sarah's minions are everywhere prying for information. We might even need to leave sooner."

"What!" Ling shot. "Marley, you just passed out, and we don't know why? How can we confront her?"

"She's going to get more powerful with every moment," Marlena said directly. "I can feel her. Especially after that television announcement," she said, nodding at the dead screen. "Everyone that saw that knows about her, and, somehow, her power has grown as a result. With every passing moment, the worlds are going to be more permanently fused together. The surge... And her eyes looking for us. She was the one who woke me up. But she can't see us yet." She looked at Jareth somberly, knowing well that he would be the one most disturbed by what she had to say. "We have to do something now. Even if all we're doing is getting a grip on what she is up to, getting her to talk about something, anything, we have to make the move. We can't wait around much longer."

Jeremiah walked into the room from the fire escape, startling everyone in the group except for Jareth, Toby, and Marlena. Didymus gradually lowered his staff from where he had instinctively put it at the ready.

"I think that's a smart move," the older man replied sagaciously. "And I know where she is now."

"Where?" Jareth asked, more than a little disturbed by the convenience of the old man's entry.

"The Times building. Ingeborg and I flew by, and it's starting to change, moreso than anywhere else. It's turning into a sort of castle." He looked at Jareth somberly. "It's not going to be easy, but now is as good a time as any to start." He looked to Marlena. "If you and your friends can get something out of her, perhaps Jareth and I can stay here and continue our search for the remaining elements of the spell that will separate Jareth from his shadow, so that we can kill Kaleb before he controls Sarah anymore to her detriment, and ours."

"Kill!" Ling was in a tizzy.

"I never agreed to kill anyone," Marlena said with purpose. "I know that this Kaleb might be capable of that, and might well have turned Sarah into a person capable of killing, but we have to find another solution."

Jeremiah beetled his eyebrows and gave Marlena a penetrating glare. It was obvious that he was only used to being challenged by Ingeborg. "Very well, but if it comes to it, we kill him. If you can find another solution, then so be it."

"How are we going to get into the Times?" Brenda asked suspiciously. "It's not as if she is going to let us in the front door."

"You're right. There are no longer any doors," Jeremiah answered. "But you can take my Fellwit, Ingeborg. She will bring you to one of the windows that are higher up on the structure."

Marlena clenched her jaw at the notion of flying. She was deathly afraid of heights. "Very well. If that's the best we have, then I suppose it will have to do." She swept her hair from her face and looked at her friends. "I know everyone here has seen an increase in their abilities, so I'm hoping it will provide us with whatever protection we need. I suggest you gather whatever things you'll need for a day's trip. Who knows what will happen when we get there." She bent low to face Toby. "You stay here with Jareth, Toby. He can help you learn the spell if he finds it." The boy nodded dutifully.

"What shall I do?" Didymus asked hopefully.

"You stay with Toby," she answered. "It will be your duty to guard him, Sir Didymus."

Didymus saluted dutifully. "Yes, Fair Maiden! It would be a great honor!"

Toby smiled at the hound and scratched him under the chin. Didymus almost protested against the beastly implications, but the good scratch got the better of him, and he started twitching his leg in satisfaction. When he realized what he was doing, he abruptly stepped away from the itch relief and stood at attention.

"What are you going to do?" Jareth asked Jeremiah.

"I'm going to help you look for a spell, of course. Marlena, you do have a library, don't you?"

The other women filtered to the back rooms of the store to find needed supplies, or just get a grip on things. Marlena sat down to rest, nodding at the man from her position on the couch. "Perhaps you should talk to Gail, though. She has an extensive library."

Gail heard her name and came back out from the storeroom. She eyed Jeremiah for a moment before answering, "Yeah, you can use it. Just... be careful with my things." She seemed to mean something else by her statement, but it went no further than a general implication of mistrust. Jareth found it interesting that the woman didn't trust Jeremiah, either.

"Certainly," Jeremiah answered, pretending as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. He turned to Jareth. "I will gather my things and meet you out front. Perhaps your friends can help us arrange some other form of transportation?" He nodded to them purposefully as he too headed to one of the back rooms. Gail watched him with a slanted brow before returning to her own business.

"Toby, do you know how to call a cab?" Marlena asked the boy with a voice softened by distress.

Toby knew well when grown-ups were trying to get rid of him, but he acquiesced because Marlena was obviously so stressed. "Yeah, just look it up in the phone book and call. I did it for my mom and dad a couple times."

"Could you do that for us?" she said with a smile.

He smiled back sweetly and insecurely. "Sure." With that, he started to jog to the kitchen. He motioned for Didymus to follow.

Jareth sat next to Marlena. "Are you sure you are alright, Marlena?" He put a comforting hand on hers.

The woman sighed. "I didn't want to worry the others. But, I really don't know that I'm doing so well."

"What happened earlier?" Jareth tried to sound as soothing as possible.

Marlena met his gaze with weary eyes. "I don't remember a whole lot, but I do know that I'm not from this world. I now know that I am from yours." Her words came out in a trembling whisper.

Jareth tried hard to get a grip on her words. "You mean, you remember that you are from the Underground?"

She worked hard to fight back the tears, and nodded her head. "More than that. I think I had a husband... and... and a son." She said the last words with a harsh finality. "I don't remember anything about them. I just know that I was wrongfully separated from them."

"Great heavens," Jareth gasped. The notion made him awkward. What did you say to someone who had been without memory for so long, then came face to face with the heartache of an unfinished past?

"I don't want them to know, Jareth. I love them, they are my friends... But this would be too distracting for them. Right now they worry about my health. But, if they know this, they will worry about more than that. And we can't afford it right now."

Jareth nodded somberly. "It will be between us, for now." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Are you sure you want to go with them? You could stay here with us."

"No, I think I need to be there. I'm not sure why, but I do." She rose from the couch and started to walk up the stairs to her room, to get dressed in something warmer. She looked back at Jareth and smiled thankfully, glad to have a confidant.

Jareth got up and put on his coat. He found Toby's hanging from the coat rack and held it aloft as the boy entered the room again. He felt like an adopted Uncle.

"We're going to Gail's house?" the boy asked as he put on the downy jacket.

"So it seems."

Jeremiah sat in the storeroom with a look of amazement on his face. "It couldn't be. Of all places, to think that she is here of all places." He was trying hard to come to terms with the words that Marlena had just shared with Jareth.

"This just gets more interesting with each passing moment!"

Gail escorted the men out to the cab and handed them a sheet with directions to her house. "It's a little ways out, but you'll have a better chance of finding what you want there."

A cell phone rang in her pocket to the tune of "Modern Love," and she pulled it out, putting out a finger for them to wait a moment for her to take the call.

"Oh my God, I am so happy to know you are okay," she breathed into the receiver. "Where are you?"

She walked away from the cab for a moment. "Look, just stay at the studio, there's a lot of funny stuff going on—" She paused and chuckled to hear the reply on the other end. "Yes, funnier than you. Can't you take anything seriously?... I guess not, then." She waved to the impatient rhino-like cab driver to hold his horses. "Look, I'll call you back later, I'm just glad you got my message. I'll explain more later. Bye!"

She hung up the phone and walked back to the cab. "Sorry about that. Look, you guys just help yourself to anything you need, just be careful with my book collection. There are some very old specimens in there. Call me at this number if you need anything." She pointed to the cell phone number on the paper.

As she closed the cab door, she waved them good-bye. "Good luck, fellas."

Jareth was squeezed between an old man, a little boy, and had a talking fox in his lap. "Thanks," he muttered with a bitter sense of irony. It was going to be a long cab ride. And he needed a bottle of wine.

The women all made it up to the top of the roof, and were face to face with the sleek Fellwit, Ingeborg. They were dwarfed by her dragon size, and obviously uncertain of her clever grin. "Well, ladies, we don't have all night! Let's get down to this adventure, shall we?"

* * *

Sarah walked off the set of the shoot and began to disrobe, not caring for who might see her. An unrealistically slender and androgynous twig of a fae slipped from behind the clothes rack. His eyes were endless and he wore a pinstriped suit with a red tie. 

In lace underwear, Sarah raised a casual brow at him. She instantly sensed something strong in him.

"I'm Pook," he introduced himself without ado. "I'm going to be your public relations manager and agent. I'm going to help you capture the hearts of the people."

Sarah brushed back her long black hair and took him in. "And why couldn't I do this myself? What's so special about you?"

"I specialize in illusions, M'Lady. You have the power to execute them, and I am the master of them. Together, you and I can achieve great things."

Sarah chose a slinky number from the rack and thought his offer over, wondering what he wanted in return.

"My first recommendation would be to go with that more casual dress over there," he said certainly, pointing. "And all I want is leave to do my job all over this land without hindrance. And maybe a place at your side. Don't worry, I have my own office in San Francisco."

She acquiesced and pulled the other dress off the rack. "It couldn't hurt. Show me some of your handiwork."

He smiled, showing a row of sharp teeth. "I already have. What makes you think I'm harmless?"

She liked him instantly.

"You have enemies, my queen," he added. "You should do something about them soon."

"And what would you suggest?"

"An interview with the Rolling Stone, to start off with. By the time you are done, I assure you, your new castle will have practically built itself. All you have to do is plant the idea in the minds of the people. Their fantasies will be the bricks and mortar."


	9. Chapter VII Finding a Totem

The dim mists of the forest seemed as if they would never clear up, but the forest itself was having second thoughts. The further along the riverbed they walked, the drier things became—a fact that obviously concerned the Aborigine men, as neither of them had proven familiar with the territory, which meant that the idea of leaving water behind with no notion of where else they would find more water was more than a little disturbing. Along the way they had discussed their plight amongst themselves in their native language, only further explaining their words to the rest of the group when questioned.

Hoggle was getting very tired from all the walking, and had begun to resent the ease with which the two lean dark-skinned men ambled through the mists. They showed no signs of stopping, and the futility of their journey had gotten to Hoggle halfway through the day. "That's it!" he finally shouted, stopping in place. It took the crew of twelve a little while to realize that Hoggle had stopped, and everyone looked behind in confusion.

"What is it, Hoggle?" Sarah asked.

He gawked as if she were a woman gone mad. His knobby cheeks rolled around and he clenched his fists. "Ain't no one else tired'a walking? We been walking all day! And there ain't a thing in this stupid, desert'a mist to be found! It's a wild goose chase!" He plopped down ungracefully and pouted at them where he sat. "I'm not goin' another step. Whether we walk some more later and chase some more ghosts is all the same to me, but right now, I needs a rest."

Benedick came to his side and kneeled. "C'mon, chap, let's just go a bit more until Albert and Wonggu tell us where to stop, eh?"

Albert and Wonggu had gone pretty far before they realized the group had stopped for more than just a fleeting concern, so they tracked their way back, and looked down at the dwarf with curious eyes.

"I tell yas, this is worse than the damned Labyrinth," Hoggle muttered, crossing his arms. His eyes peeked out from his eyebrows a little uncertainly as everyone stared at him and started chattering amongst themselves. It was obvious that he didn't expect to have to keep performing beyond the initial act of melodrama, and the continued show made him uncomfortable.

"Why you stoppin' in dis place, small man?" Albert asked him. His hair was short and combed back, albeit caked with sand. He pointed down the river. "We keep going some bit longer. Should be a totem that way. Not too far."

Hoggle obviously wasn't prepared to argue with the gentlemen. Frankly, they scared him a little bit. Maybe because he knew deep down they had survived worse than he ever could. Their elegant sun-baked wrinkles impressed upon him their survival instincts, and he grudgingly got up and brushed himself off. "Ain't much further?" he asked with a slanted brow.

Wonggu shook his head. Dust flew from his tight curls. "Come, we find a totem. If not, we stop for camp."

Another half hour passed in walking, and even Sarah had to admit she was getting tired. She ambled up next to Albert. His sharp nose came into profile as she came up on his side. "Albert, why is it so important that we find a totem? Can't we just stop and set up camp somewhere?"

Albert smiled at her mischievously. She couldn't get over how elfin he was. "Would be easier that way, uh?" He looked ahead with purpose and pointed into the distant haze. "In this place, all things exist outta time. No past nor future. Here nor there. But some things stay the same all 'cross all lands. The totems mark important places, where the world was created, where great battles took place, but most important, where there is water. There is much water here, but there must be greater water. We find the totem marking the water, we can find our way in the Dreaming."

"If it's not here or there, why does it matter if we find a totem or not?"

Wonggu and Albert looked at Sarah peculiarly then nodded in appreciation. "Ah, you know deeper things," Albert remarked. "It is not _really_ important, you are right. But it _is_ really important, too. Because the land is a marking for the journey of the gods. We see it like totems, but when you do not look, it is the gods again, and the mothers and fathers of the land."

Albert seemed to think the explanation was enough, and Sarah was too tired to question him further.

Before long, they came upon an outcropping of rock that formed a makeshift cave. On its side was illustrated a crude snake in white finger paint, no doubt mixed from clay found somewhere near the riverbed. How long ago was a different issue.

Everyone settled down along the river, Benedick shuffling Sage, Sarah, Vindar and Isabelle along into the cave, as there was only room for a few, and the elements weren't so taxing as to make it necessary for everyone to find shelter.

Until it started to suddenly become cool with the passing of what little sun had remained in the sky.

Albert and Wonggu had already begun digging out bowls in the ground to sleep in while everyone else was chattering away. Hoggle especially seemed out of control in the clacking of his teeth. "Where did this blasted cold come from all of a sudden?" he said while trying to warm his arms.

"Desert gets cold at night," Albert said shortly as he dragged his stick through the somewhat moist dirt.

Eepwot shook the cobwebs out of his orange feathers and jumped up. "What's this all about anyway? What're we freezin' our appendages off for, huh?" He bounced off toward a nearby tree and started grabbing dry twigs. He bounced back, threw them on the ground, and, with a flick of his wrist, they were burning nicely. "There!" he shouted with satisfaction.

The aboriginal men seemed impressed. "Neat trick," Albert said with a wide grin.

* * *

Benedick and Granen left with Eepwot to find more dry wood for the fire. An uncomfortable silence was sitting over the large group for most of the journey, and it didn't seem close to abating anytime soon.

Isabelle still seemed cold in her silk dress, and Sarah came close to wrap an arm around the young girl. "Hi there," she said in a soft, friendly voice. "Looks like the guys are going to get some more wood. We'll be warm soon."

Mandelbrot took Sage by the arm and into the forest, talking in hushed tones. "I need to broach a topic with you, my friend."

Sage arched a brow at him.

"Considering how Eberon has betrayed his people, and my duty as advisor for the elves, I wanted to discuss with you what to do with the kingdom if and when we return."

Sage looked uncomfortable. "These might be matters to discuss with Eberon. I don't dare risk inciting his childish wrath again. It hurts everyone I am involved with."

Mandelbrot was taken aback by his reaction. "The Sage I know would never talk of loss in the face of honorable actions."

"This is true. But there is a lot at stake."

"I can tell you now, Eberon will not fight us. His will is broken. He knows he has been a fool. I think you should come back into the fold. You can rule at his side, or even… in his place."

"I'm not in search of power," Sage replied with a shake of his head. "I've come to love my wandering life."

"Your people need you, Sage," Mandelbrot answered quietly.

"You do it. Kingship doesn't suit me."

"Things have changed, Sage. The throne has changed, and the needs of the kingdom have changed. Our people need an elf of honor to show them the way. They need something to dream for. Things will be broken, and you are the clever chap to put them back together."

"Let's talk more of this later. I will consider it."

* * *

Isabelle smiled up at Sarah and gave her a big hug. She didn't know how much her gentle touch comforted Sarah. So many times in the last couple of days had Sarah felt close to falling apart, and now she knew that a good hug would have done a great deal to quell her nervousness.

Vindar came close to his father, watching Sage's eyes as they peered intently upon the unwitting Eberon who had, by now, removed all the jester's paint that the dark image of Sarah had put upon him in mockery. There were still bits of paint smudged over his large eyes.

"Father, it will be alright," Vindar coaxed, putting a hand on his father's shoulder firmly.

Sage was very quiet, filled with loss and bitter anger, but not wishing to draw attention to himself. "The boy is such a fool. He destroys one family after another for his selfish desires."

"He regrets his actions," Vindar said, explaining how Eberon had apologized to him after he had rescued the elf king from Kaleb's castle. "I believe him, Father. He knows he did something terribly wrong by... taking mother away from us."

Sage looked at his son with a deep tenderness and put a slightly wrinkled hand over the boy's. "You amaze me. You have a greater capacity to forgive, yet I am supposed to be the wise one, the one to let go of the past."

"She was your greatest love, Father," Vindar answered somberly as he stole a glance at Isabelle. "I don't know how you can forgive someone for taking that away." Isabelle pretended that she didn't notice Vindar's soft words or gaze, but she blushed brightly all the same.

Sage too noticed Vindar's loving glances and smiled at the boy. He patted him playfully on the cheek. "You're holding the wrong hand. Get over there."

With that, Sage slowly rose and left the haven of the cave. It was obvious that the older elf had tired of focusing on his negative emotions and sought out meditative quiet that only staring into flame could afford. Vindar scooted next to Isabelle and took her hand from her lap. They smiled surely at each other.

Sarah too decided to leave the young lovers to their own devices, and went to stand next to Mandelbrot, who was examining the markings on the side of the cave. Wonggu was explaining to him the mythos of the Rainbow Snake, and how it created the rivers of his land.

"Interesting culture," he said with an intense gaze. "I never thought that magic still really existed Aboveground."

"It does," Sarah replied. "It's just scattered about, and dismissed as foolish myth by those who would rule the world with heartless economics and science."

"Ah, but economics is the domain of any good queen. And you speak of science with such disdain," Mandelbrot commented with surprise. "Science isn't so far from magic. I consider a study of science integral to my own studies with magic." Mandelbrot cocked a brow at her as if reproaching a student.

Sarah laughed shyly. "Oh, trust me, I don't have any disdain for science. Just the heartless scientists. Just as I don't really like those skilled in the art of magic to show a lack of appreciation for science." She touched the snake drawing, feeling a weird connection to it, something like a vibration under the stone. She dismissed it as nerves. "There was a time when I wished that the two worlds could accept each other, to combine the science and the magic across the board, to realize our full potential."

The thought sunk in. Mandelbrot looked at her carefully as if he also understood the something important had just been uttered.

"Oh no." Sarah's face dropped like a ton of bricks. "You don't think?"

"Oh, I more than think. I think this is exactly what the fae sisters were talking about."  
Sarah almost stumbled back to the campfire. The thought sent her head swimming. The Aborigine men remained silent, not wishing to intrude upon whatever emotional state Sarah was experiencing. Mandelbrot sat next to her, then Hoggle.

"What is it, little Missy?" Hoggle asked, in his concern forgetting all decorum in addressing his queen.

"The sisters... they said that something had been combined, and should be torn asunder. I know what they mean, now," Sarah said with a heavy brow. She looked intensely upon Hoggle, the words falling like a great stone from her lips. "My other self has combined Aboveground and Underground. That is why Albert and Wonggu are here. We're in the Mist of Dreams, somewhere on this new world."

Sage had heard her words across from the campfire, where his eyes shot across the flames like hot embers. "What kind of chaos would that create?"

Sarah shook her brown curls from side to side, trancelike.

"All kinds is what I'm guessing," Hoggle remarked with a snort. Sarah looked at him like he had made the most terrible social faux pas. "Um, sorry," he said, beginning to fidget.

Isabelle emerged from the cave, holding her stomach -completely clueless to the conversation at hand. "I don't mean to be a bother, but, I'm starving to death. Can't we get some food or something?" The stares that met hers held something heavier than hunger pangs.

Albert and Wonggu, however, were smiling as if this group of crazy adventurers were the best thing that had happened to them in ages. "It's like these soap operas you showed me on your television," Wonggu said to Albert in their native tongue.

Albert nodded appreciatively. "An _American_ soap opera."

* * *

Damion sat in the mailroom, enraptured with hundreds of envelopes to sort, a million little details to tend. This office, that office, Mr. So and So, Ms. Such and Such, one two three, the envelopes plopped into their plastic bins happily.

He looked up from his work as Fozzy came in the room. He hadn't realized until the intrusion that he had been humming. He stopped awkwardly. "Yes?"

Fozzy fondled his hat nervously, tugged at his tie. "There's gonna be a party, you know, and I came to see if you wanted to join us."

* * *

Jareth, Jeremiah, Toby, and Sir Didymus arrived at Gail's house without trouble, other than the horrendous traffic that hadn't let up since the two worlds merged. The four climbed the staircase to the fifth floor apartment of a rather cozy, marbled trimmed housing establishment. Five oh-three; Jareth turned the key in the lock and was greeted with a spacious, warm home that probably took up a whole eighth of the floor of the complex. The small foyer opened up into a large living room/dining room combined. 

"The lady does have a lovely home," Didymus said in amazement as he stroked a very expensive-looking vase. When he inevitable toppled it over, he pulled a move only equivocated by a football quarterback and caught it, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in relief.

Jareth gave the fox a knowing look, almost startled out of his own wits by Didymus' lack of grace. "I need not remind you, Didymus, that we dare not touch any of Gail's things unless we absolutely have to. I don't think any of us want to be subject to her wrath should any of it get damaged."

Didymus managed to get the vase back up on the table with Toby's help. "I think you are right, Sir," Didymus agreed. "I think I will just stand at the door and keep guard." He ambled abjectly toward the foyer, muttering, "I wish Ambrosius were here," under his breath as he stood solidly at guard. Toby watched him out of the corner of his eye; it wasn't long before the fox fell from his pose, flopping down pitiably into the sleeping pose of any dog. It was very obvious that Didymus' spirits had been consistently battered.

The boy would have comforted him, but he knew there were more important matters. While Jeremiah and Jareth looked around, he made a beeline for the other room. He saw the library of books instantly, and was eager to get started on the search for the spell that would help them solve some of their problems.

Jeremiah watched the boy slyly, then motioned to Jareth. "Come, looks like the boy is onto something."

The two men followed Toby into the library. The boy seemed awestruck upon his arrival.

The library was cozy, books upon books lining the cherry shelving. Most of the books seemed fairly old, with a few modern volumes, such as the colorfully-illustrated "Witch in the City" and small rosy pink volume, "100 Spells for Love." Jareth noted the labeling for this section was "Humor – Or Just Plain Silly."

"Where do we start?" Toby asked with a hearty yawn.

Jareth looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was almost three in the morning. "You, young sir, are going to start with bed."

"Aww, c'mon," Toby pouted. "I'm not tired!" He yawned again in spite of himself. Soon, Jareth and Jeremiah yawned too.

"We all are," Jareth replied. "But only Jeremiah and I have to suffer the night. I promise, we will wake you if we find the spell. We'll have to practice as soon as possible."

Jareth coaxed the boy out of the room with a gentle hand on his back. "Come, we will find the bedroom. I doubt Gail will be needing it tonight."

They found it without trouble. While the library had been a room straight out of Harry Potter's Hogwarts, the rest of the house was decked out in rather modern accoutrements. The bedroom especially had a clean, earthen touch with tan and soil-colored deco. Jareth turned on the adjoining bathroom light for Toby while the boy crawled up onto the high bed and started taking off his shoes.

Jareth looked around the room curiously, greeted with a shelf full of photographs. He picked one up. It was Gail with her guitar, goofing around with a man who looked almost just like Jareth. He inspected it, mesmerized. "I do look just like him."

He noted the rock star apparel and guitar the man held and sneered. "Great, a _rock and roll band_." He put down the frame and visibly suppressed a shudder.

By the time he turned around, Toby was starting to crawl under the bedspread. Jareth immediately went to help him, holding back the covers, then tucking him in snugly.

"Jareth?"

"Yes?"

Toby's eyes darted shyly around the room. "I wanted to tell you somethin'."

Jareth sat on the edge of the bed expectantly. "Okay."

"I remember everything from when I was a little boy. How you took me to your castle, when you were the unicorn."

Jareth was taken aback. He knew from Sage's stories that Toby had been cleared of those memories the moment he returned Aboveground with Leah.

Four years ago, when Jareth had pulled Sarah from her home Aboveground to complete a new quest, and he had still been the Goblin King, Jareth also wooed Toby through the use of a unicorn figurine. Knowing from elfin lore that the key to the amethyst would hide itself in some place special to the pure soul that had embarked on the quest, he had used Toby as insurance for the successful completion of Sarah's quest. The lore changed itself based on the person embarking upon the journey to retrieve the Amethyst—in the case of Sarah, it had made mention of a place where Underground and Aboveground met, that was dear to both brother and sister. There were many such places, at the time when Aboveground and Underground were separate, where the worlds had a tender connection, not so much in the sense that one was a staircase to another, but that where one changed, so did the other. Jareth knew that the key to the Amethyst would only reveal itself in the right location, and Sarah had figured it out on her own. She found the key and rode to the hiding place of the amethyst alone, taking it before he could get it from her.

Which was directly connected to the day's events. But, before he had chased Sarah down to get his hands on the amethyst, he had sent Toby back to his home, with his memory of those days erased.

It seemed that those memories had been unlocked.

"So you remember," Jareth answered after some quiet thought.

Toby nodded. "But don't be sad. I'm not." He smiled up at Jareth. "I know that you were different back then. But, even though you were supposed to be the bad king that Sarah used to tell me stories about, I know you weren't really bad."

Jareth was breathless. He had never felt himself so close to the verge of tears. It was a sort of forgiveness that Jareth now realized he had been longing for, from Sarah or Toby, for the longest time. "Do you really know that, Toby?" Jareth asked with a modicum of composure.

Toby's brown hair flopped as he nodded energetically. "I do. You were never really bad. You just loved Sarah so much you kinda got silly sometimes." Toby smiled broadly. "My sister did lotsa dumb things for boys when she was younger. It was kinda like that. You just got kinda dumb."

A snort surprised it's way out of Jareth's throat. "It was a little more complicated than that, but—"

"Not really," Toby said. "You just thought it was. You were just trying to make Sarah pay attention." He bent over and whispered confidentially, "She was never good at paying attention."

Jareth began laughing raucously, then bent over to hug the boy. "You are something else, Toby." He tucked in the last bits of the comforter and ruffled his hair. "I'm glad we had this talk."

Toby had seemed to overcome his shyness, and was sleepily proud of himself. Jareth smiled at him from the doorway. "Good night."

"'night!" Toby snuggled up into the blankets. Jareth closed the door behind him, and didn't see the smile fall from the boy's face as thoughts of worry for his sister crowded into his brain.

He wasn't sure exactly where he had learned that it was important to put on a brave face for other people. Sarah had always done that, and, now he realized, so had Leah. It was hard for him to grasp that Sarah had sort of been lying to him for four years. But, then, he wasn't really all that mad. _She had to do it_, he reminded himself. _She had important things to do. And Leah was almost like her, I think. We always had fun after that._

He was still a little saddened. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that all the filial piety that had existed over the last four years was because another person had stepped into the picture. Sarah had left Toby behind again to be queen over a magical land, and she hadn't taken him with her.

He wasn't mad, but he felt left out. And who exactly was Leah? Why did she even care about him? They had said that Leah was Sarah's shadow. What did that mean? Was it like _Peter Pan_? Was Leah even a real person? Did Sarah just make her up to get Toby off her back?

Toby soon dropped off to sleep, despite his troubled thoughts. Sir Didymus snuck in, taking guard at the foot of the boy's bed. "I know I can't do anything right, Master Tobias," Didymus mumbled sadly as he looked to the boy, "but I will fight to the death to protect thee."

Toby heard the fox's words, even though he himself was still asleep. Dreamily, he replied, "Thanks."

The fox smiled a toothy canine grin in spite of himself.

"Always wanted a dog," the boy mumbled.

Sir Didymus had never been complimented by those words before. Perhaps he wasn't the _common dog_, but at least it was nice to be wanted. He stood sternly at attention, his staff before him. He looked the part of a true knight.

Rattlebeak flew in through a crack in the door and settled on the pillow next to the smiling boy.

* * *

Gail seemed to have more of the cleaning bug than her friend Marlena. The kitchen was spacious and spotless, with green herbs in ceramic pots hanging from the cupboards for easy access. Jareth walked in genteely, his cool face not belying the emotions struggling under the surface. He rummaged through all the cupboards in search of a cup. On the fifth try, he pulled a cobalt blue tumbler from the shelf, then went to the sink to fill it with water. He was still awkward with plumbing Aboveground, and it took him a few moments to get the lever in the right direction for cold water. He put his cup under the water for collection and, instead of water, sludge filled his cup. He gave the faucet a look of complete disgust before turning it off.

He decided to try the refrigerator. When he opened it, he was greeted by shelf after shelf of foodand creatures. It looked like an army of hamsters had infiltrated by means of a roughly-chewed hole in the back of the machine, and were happily feasting on a variety of leftovers. They stopped mid-chew to look at him disdainfully.

"Would you mind, we're having dinner here," a buck-toothed rodent remarked.

Jareth doubled the efficacy of his earlier look of disgust, where it now qualified as a look of murderous intent. "Well, of course you are." He slammed the door with no lack of frustration.

Then he noticed there was a water dispensing device on the front of the refrigerator, gathered another tumbler, and managed to find the correct button for water only after getting pelted with ice. He filled the cup without further incident, sniffed the water to make sure it was healthy to drink, then took a large swig that was only half as satisfying as it would have been had he been able to get it without trouble in the first place.

He drifted aimlessly into the studio that adjoined the kitchen. It was pitch dark, except for the light that streamed in through the doorway from the other room. The angles of the doorways lined up in such a way that a slice of the library was visible. He could see Jeremiah bent over a heavy book on the desk, and, in the silence, his frustrated grumbling traveled throughout the house. He slammed the book shut and slid another volume over, opening and flipping through it with a total lack of grace.

It could have been that the old man was in a hurry, but Jareth never remebered him to be so rash. Whenever anyone was around Jeremiah he put on the expected face of the sagely old man. But it appeared to Jareth that, when he was left alone, his true face emerged.

He was looking for something, but Jareth really wondered if it was the same thing for which Jareth was looking. Something told him that he was really trying to find a new cage for Jareth, that he never felt his student had paid adequately for thwarting the wishes of his master. The suffering Jareth experienced was greater than any he felt he deserved. It had indeed taught him a number of lessons, but it had completely stripped him of a joyful life. Jareth found a saving grace in the deep eyes of his beloved Sarah, he felt sparked anew with a will to live. He had satisfied himself until then with toying with lives for amusement, wrecking homes, doing all the dastardly things one does when one has lost hope for living.

This was the real lesson Jeremiah had taught him by trapping him in that castle with goblins for several decades. That a rat in a cage can only find amusement by tormenting his fellow rats. Jareth was the head rat, the one who had found the cheese and stashed it in his treasury to taunt the other rats. There was nothing else to do. Goblin jokes only amused other goblins. He was a king over a race he could not understand or respect.


	10. Chapter VIII Brother Gimley

Sarah had taught him a new lesson. He knew how his affection for the woman looked on the outside. How ridiculous he was. She had crossed his path at the tender age of sixteen, and even in the beginning he found her alluring, even though she was too naive to appreciate the affections of an older man. He had felt attached to her from the very beginning, spotting her as he flew over the lands above as he often did for brief amusement. Weekend after weekend she would go to the park near her house and practice the lines from different plays her mother had sent her. He watched her constantly, enchanted, for he had seen very few girls in his journeys that had been so enamored with worlds of fantasy at that age. Often their walls were plastered with posters of teenage pop icons and movie stars, and they flailed around on their beds in their little meaningless universes on the phone with friends, discussing crushes and clothing. Not to say that Jareth only watched teenagers hopefully for someone to toy with, for there were plenty of adults ready to make a deal with the Goblin King to rid themselves of some annoying co-worker, sibling, or lawyer. These cases were more infrequent, though, since most adults had lost touch with a belief in beings of magic, and didn't usually seek a man like the Goblin King for recourse.

But adolescents did have something that neither adults nor young children had—a remaining belief in magic combined with an impatient and often petulant desire to rid themselves of some person who troubled them. They were the most fertile ground for kidnappings, and they almost always had some baby sibling they were itching to be rid of. He would give them some kind of inspiration to make a wish to ask his assistance in becoming rid of the sibling; sometimes it was a flash of something on television, or a slip of paper tucked under their door, a story, a dream. He had to give them the idea somehow, but it was entirely their choosing to utilize his services in getting rid of the person in question. Jareth doubted Sarah had ever considered the depth of his diabolical actions prior to his experience with her. She probably would have despised him much more deeply had she known. So would Toby.

Jareth had been quite an evil man, with Kaleb's help. His hunger to taunt and toy with people could never be satiated. It was an elaborate game, and he constantly sought pawns to play. Sometimes people would regret their decision, as Sarah had, not realizing in the world of magic that the intent is just as bad as the action. Some would journey his Labyrinth, but many gave up quickly, not creative enough to find a way around the obstacles, unwilling to bend their thinking to the new laws of his playground. Underwritten in their failure was that they too would become goblins, and thus he had many goblins who were unwittingly related to one another. This wasn't entirely his choosing, for it was his curse that anyone he brought to stay in his Labyrinth for more than thirteen hours would be transformed, unless they had solved the labyrinth. Sometimes he could make the time stretch and re-order itself, but it would always sap a great deal of his power to do such a thing.

He had changed the rules for Sarah. He _did_ reorder time, because, deep down, he wanted her to win. He felt tied inexorably to her from the moment he flew into her magical grove. Something in him knew that it was she who had _created him_, like he was just a dream from her fertile imagination. Though he knew he had lived much longer than her, he knew also that time is meaningless in the mystical gates of the fae, and that such a thing was very possible. Perhaps, even, they had created one another. It had taken him nine years to be able to verbalize the sensation he had felt when first seeing her, but now he knew that what had happened was that he had found his soul mate. His long life had brought him to strange places and opened up deep channels in his spirit, places of understanding that few were able to tap. He had been to the edge of the gateway into the world of fae, having some fae blood via a great-grandfather on his mother's side. Sometimes still, despite the loss of his power, he could sense large powers at work, could unravel a bit of the mystical fabric of the universe for his own perusal.

Sarah was deeply connected to this fabric. He had always assumed that the connection was just to him, but now he knew that the only way she would have been able to pull off the merging of the worlds would be if she was connected more intimately to the fabric of the universe. Perhaps she was a reincarnated being of great power, completely unwitting to her own roots. While Jareth suspected she created him, he did not think he was her slave, but that she had blown a breath of life on his soul in her dreams.

One day in the Dark Ages of men Aboveground, a cleric from a small monastery in Scotland called Jareth to him, asking to have one of his brothers to be taken away. Jareth appeared to find the young cleric all alone, the brother in question non-existent.

Jareth remembered the day with a smile, the young man's cleverness still imprinted on his mind.

"Well, here I am," Jareth had said with a playful smile, in perfect Gaelic.

The young cleric gaped at him from over the codec he had been illuminating. "You're real!" he whispered, carelessly dripping red ink all over the Celtic knots on the page. He dropped the pen, destroying many days worth of work.

"It would seem that way," Jareth replied coyly. "I am here to help you with a troublesome cleric?"

The young man stuttered, trying to find his voice, "I, uh, I lied. There are no brothers troubling me at this time. The one I named does not exist."

Jareth was intrigued. "I knew lying monks existed, but I did not expect to come across one in my life."

The monk was hypnotized by Jareth's apparel, which was more elaborate than any king he had seen ride past. "Are you the Dark Angel?"

"What, Lucifer?" Jareth let out an intimidating chuckle. "He spends more time whispering into ears than darkening doorsteps." Jareth casually walked around the room, analyzing various open manuscripts and admiring the detail of the illustrations. One illustrated the angel Lucifer falling from the sky into the fires of Hell. "Ah, Lucifer, poor misunderstood soul."

The monk watched from afar, too nervous to offer speech to the mysterious man that had flown into his quiet, damp cloister.

Jareth spun on his heel and looked carefully at the man. The monk looked like he thought the Goblin King's mere glare would make him disappear in a puff of smoke.

"What shall we do with you?" Jareth asked with a glint of mischief in his eye. "So, do you wish to become a goblin, my good Brother Gimley?"

The monk, though shy, seemed just as sparked by the words of the Goblin King as he was intimidated. "Not necessarily. I was just calling you to test the words old bard who told me about you."

"Oh yes, William the Bard. We did have an... exchange."

"I didn't believe him. I thought he was surely possessed by the Devil to be saying such things," Brother Gimley said, overcoming his shyness and becoming increasingly excited over the results of his wish. "But he obviously wasn't. I always knew there was more to the world than the Lord's book."

"Well, you were right, weren't you?" Jareth remarked with a smile. He was starting to like this boy. It brought a little glimmer of genuine respect out of his increasingly darkening opinion of humanity Aboveground. "What do you propose we do, now, Gimley? You don't wish to be a goblin, but I must have someone to take with me. Shall you find a brother who you do indeed find distasteful, and have me take him off your hands?" The corner of his mouth turned up slyly. Jareth was very curious about what the young man's answer would be.

Brother Gimley wrung his ink-stained hands in turmoil. "I could never do such a thing. Is there any other option?"

"Well, you could travel through my Labyrinth, and should you unravel its mystery, I will render you free of your debt. However, should you become lost in the time allotted, you will be doomed to remain in my castle as a goblin."

Brother Gimley looked down at the maze of Celtic knots on the illuminated page of the Bible he had been copying, and a large smile spread on his face. "A labyrinth, you say? Well, then, I accept your challenge."

Brother Gimley solved the Labyrinth in half the time he was given. Jareth threw many obstacles in his path in an attempt to make a challenge suitable for the imaginative young cleric, but nothing seemed to phase him. Usually Jareth knew more about those who traveled his labyrinth, but Brother Gimley had come out of nowhere to Jareth, through word of mouth, and he therefore had too little knowledge to use as a means for increasing the challenge. He was sure, however, that Gimley would have solved the labyrinth nonetheless.

When it was time to send the man back to his cloister, Gimley bowed down before Jareth and begged to stay.

"As a goblin?" Jareth inquired, surprised.

"No, in the lands beyond your kingdom," he said, looking out the window. "Just as there was more to life than the cloister, I know there is more to this world than your labyrinth. I wish to stay here, I've never felt more at home."

Jareth looked at the man in amazement. There was no reason he could not have his wish, for he had succeeded in averting the curse by solving the labyrinth. Usually Jareth would use such an incident as a means to gain more power over a person, forcing them to indebt themselves to him for such a transaction, but he was enchanted by the young monk with the fertile imagination.

"Certainly. Normally I charge, but you can consider it payment for convincing me of the necessity of making my labyrinth more difficult."

Brother Gimley chose to live in the Valley of the Worjamonga in the East, the stomping grounds of a rare gazelle-like beast that had the same mystical rareness of the Unicorn. Jareth had heard legends since then that Gimley had become known as the only man who could call the Worjamonga, and had created a small village inhabited by other Abovegrounders who had accidentally stumbled upon portals, and could not return. He even started his own family. Some of them found ways to return Aboveground, including his first son. For his son, Aboveground was the mystery to be explored, as Underground had been for Gimley. The boy settled in Germany eventually, where he became good friends with the famous Brothers Grimm, and wrote his own tale of a King of Goblins who lived in the center of a labyrinth in the world Underground.

In the twentieth century a playwright came across this tale and converted it into a play, unbeknownst sometime for Jareth. The circumstances under which he discovered the play were rather extraodinary, as the playwright had never found publication for this little red volume, nor had found a stage willing to perform it.

Jareth found it one day sitting on a desk in one of his favorite studies. It faithfully rendered the tale that was to be Sarah's first journey to the labyrinth.

The written word had a funny little personality of its own in Jareth's realm. It was a sort of case of the chicken and the egg. Sometimes words made things happen, like self-fulfilling prophecies. Sometimes words were written after things had happened. But very rarely were words carelessly jotted down Underground. They had a funny way of making themselves manifest. That is why books were carefully guarded by those who could keep their mischief at bay, like Hoggle's father, the Bookkeeper. Words had consequences. There were some Aboveground who believed that their lives were too unreal to be anything but the work of a mischievous author, and most of those individuals were probably right.

For Jareth to find this volume sitting on his desk, as if carelessly left there, was anything but a happenstance occasion. Jareth immediately read the little book, fearing the worst. He was perplexed greatly by the story's existence, until he came across Sarah in the little glade on the east coast of America. He knew what he was supposed to do.

Jareth always suspected in the back of his mind that Sarah had indeed imagined the book into existence, had called some spirit to create a fairy tale for her to act out. In this way he felt like she had created him, that he was meant as the perfect villain to test her psyche. Were he born Aboveground, such notions might seem to him simple whimsy, but he knew better. Stranger things had happened.

He supposed he could have kept the book, but he wanted to see how the predestined story would play out. He might have known how it ended, but the book was remarkable in that no ending had been written. Like most readers, he had to know how the book ended, and it seemed that it would only come about by playing the game. So he wrapped the little book up in brown paper and sent it by carrier to Sarah's house. On the inside cover he inscribed, "To Sarah—All my love, Mom."

After that he watched month after month as she rehearsed the lines of the tale, filled with a combined obsession for the story and her devotion to her biological mother. Jareth waited patiently for the girl to call him, and was ready for her on that day. He had kept his own copy of the volume, as well, and had memorized it by then. He was to offer the girl her dreams in return for the baby. She would travel his labyrinth, and would probably win.

And Sarah did beat his labyrinth. He waited for her in graceful expectation, trying to hide his anxiety over the conclusion. Over the time he had watched her, Jareth had indeed fallen in love with her. He knew that she had always seen the end of the book, though he had not. It would be a declaration of freedom, a denial of him. He knew this, but his own volume had remained unwritten, and thus he hoped beyond hope that she would see the spark in him that he saw in her. But she was young, and had a different journey. So, though he knew by then what the ending was to be, he was still shocked when she told him to take his dreams back and return her brother.

Had she done any less, she would not have been the woman he loved to this day.

So he had been a fool, and fallen in love with a young girl. Over the five years after her first journey, Jareth had become increasingly despondent, denying to himself that he had ever loved her. The more withdrawn he became, the more Kaleb took over. He found himself acting more rashly than ever before, more willing to go to dire extremes. He became obsessed with the amethyst, and studied endlessly to find a way to gain access to its powers. It was at this moment when he found an excuse to bring Sarah back into the picture.

Every time she encountered him, she seemed surprised, and it had always amused Jareth, for he had always been in the background. Humans Aboveground were always amazed when encountered by beings of other realms, and though many of them would admit to believing in some sort of deity watching over them, they always yelped with surprise when confronted by beings of that other realm. Didn't they know that there were many spirits and beings watching them the way Jareth had watched Sarah? They said they did, but their constant surprise revealed their true beliefs.

Sarah's second journey led to Jareth's transformation back to his true self, and to Sarah's permanent residency Underground. The little red book called The Labyrinth had led to a lot more than its own story. Its story continued to unfold invisibly, leading to this moment in time where it was time for Jareth to save Sarah. He felt to blame, but he also felt inexorably tied to fate, or perhaps tied to the mischievous soul writing the story they were living at that moment.

It was no use trying to question the source of the circumstances, because the possible sources were too numerous to even consider. Jareth decided to return to the old theory that he was a stupid fool who had consistently brought on trouble to others all throughout his life. He was paying in spades, having to watch the slow disintegration of the one woman he loved more than anyone in all his life. Yesterday she hated him, and today she was out of reach. And like her, he was doomed by his connection to Kaleb. The man had changed him long ago, and now, knowing his biggest weakness, he had changed Sarah. He would kill the man, if it weren't for the fact that their connection would cause him to die in the process. It wasn't so much that he worried over his own life, because if he thought he could end Sarah's misery through his own suicide, he would do it instantly. However, were he to die, he might not be able to help unravel the mess that Kaleb had begun. The evil magic of any sorcerer did not die with them—it usually required the cooperation of the caster to undo.


	11. Chapter IX The Connection

The thoughts were intense, but remembered within a matter of minutes. Jareth looked down at his water, almost completely forgotten. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, where he saw several guitars and amps spread about. Jeremiah was still rummaging through books, a constant wrinkled reminder of Jareth's stupidity.

A whole lifetime of mistakes sat in Jareth's brain like dead weight, and he sank deeper into the chair. He was lonely. How many years had he coveted the woman who now must be his enemy, as he had been hers at one time? How long was he to go on in unrequited love? He felt blown about in a vortex of chaos and mischief, and he felt bitterly angry at himself and whatever deity had chosen to place such unfair challenges in his path.

'I know that you were different back then. But, even though you were supposed to be the bad king that Sarah used to tell me stories about, I know you weren't really bad.' Jareth remembered Toby's words with a heavy heart. The look of complete innocence on the boy's face came to mind, and filled Jareth with deep sadness. The boy had no concept of what Jareth had actually done. While Toby had meant to console Jareth with his words, it had only served to put a mirror in front of his eyes. All men started in the world with innocent eyes, and it was their own fault when that innocent vision was lost.

It meant a great deal to Jareth that the boy would try so hard to absolve an old, foolish man of his sins. Jareth was amazed at how flattered he was by the little boy's approval. And, yet, it filled him with a deeper sorrow, a sorrow for all things he had lost. He had lost the innocence that Toby took for granted. He had lost his chance to find love with Sarah. He had squandered a lifetime.

His eyes watered, and he felt tears falling from his eyes in small drops. His chest tightened in the grips of his sorrow. He hadn't cried in over twenty years. Never had he been filled with enough remorse to warrant tears, nor had he been one for self pity.

He dropped his head into his hands and let the tears fall. His sobs were quiet, but pained.

It wasn't all too surprising to Jareth when Jeremiah took this awkward moment to stick his head into the door and address him. "Jareth, what are you doing? We have work."

Jareth looked up at the old man, bitterly angry to be caught by him in a moment of such vulnerability. The silence creaked as Jeremiah noted the tears on Jareth's face. Noted them, then moved toward the study. "Come," he said with his back turned. "We don't have time."

Jareth rose slowly, bitter on more levels than he could register. It was at that moment when Jareth knew beyond a doubt that he needed to keep a close eye on his former master. The coldness he saw in Jeremiah's eyes registered more than dedication to an important task.

The former Goblin King pulled a handkerchief from his pockets and dried his eyes, then went to join Jeremiah in the study. First he would find the spell to separate Kaleb and himself, then he would tend to the task of finding out what Jeremiah was _really_ here to do. As they found their seats in the small library, Jeremiah took on a cool calm that he had not possessed earlier while Jareth had watched him from the studio.

Jareth just as coolly opened a book for perusal, but under the surface he was seething with a troubling questions over how exactly Jeremiah was involved in the goings on of the last days.

He had a whole evening ahead of him to confront the man with sneaky conversation. For the moment he contented himself with the daunting task of finding the perfect spell to solve all their troubles.

Before he could read a line, Jeremiah broke the silence. "We've got a very big problem."

Jareth looked at him quizzically.

"Go ahead, read the first line of your book."

Jareth looked down at the volume with dread. "Eepnay, bozlqyat nizwhat peggle dekot do." He looked back up at his teacher. "What language is this?"

"My experience would suggest gibberish," Jeremiah said with dark sarcasm.

Jareth looked over the desk to all the books Jeremiah had opened. They all were filled with the same nonsensical words. Like the faucet in the kitchen, they had been rendered useless.

"Lovely," Jareth blurted acidly.

* * *

Claw wandered the streets of the city, on his way to the base camp of the army, looking out for suspicious activity. He noticed something moving in against the brick walls. It was a bit of shadow. The darkness crawled up the red brick and onto a ledge, where it made the shape of a raven.

"She's looking for enemies," it squawked. "She knows you're coming for her."

Claw nodded at the bird then waved him off with his wing. It melted back into the shadows and went on its way.

* * *

Leah and Jeremy spent a late dinner in the cafeteria in what looked like a post-apocalyptic war zone—or at least a post-cream pie zone.

"So this place Underground, it's not really Underground, is it?" Jeremy asked with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"I don't think so. But it is connected to Aboveground. I really don't know how it works. It's always shifting and changing there, so it's really hard to explain," Leah answered. She devoured the food with abandon, having been deprived of food for a long time.

"Man, I tell you what, it sounds like something Jim would come up with," he said in amazement.

Leah shrugged. "What's to say he didn't? Or at least part of it. I've always suspected that that's exactly how the two were connected. Through the imagination."

"Wild. Absolutely wild." Jeremy put his fork down and slid his tray away. "Surely you don't want to sleep in the office again. Don't take this wrong, but do you want to stay at my place?"

Leah smiled at his gentlemanly behavior. "That would be great, I need a good night's sleep after today's chaos."

"Big day tomorrow, too." Jeremy picked up their trays for proper disposal, a perfectly ironic action in the face of the disarray. One lonely muppet janitor pushed the remaining sludge along with a wide broom while humming a ditty.

They went up to Leah's office to check on Damion. They found him dancing with a bunch of other Muppets to a Will Smith song on a big silver jukebox. The bird-man's feathers were in a horrible state. "Miss Leah!" Damion shouted when the two stepped into the doorway. "So good to see you! I see you found what you were looking for!"

Leah could barely hear him above the music. She was more amused than she let on to see Damion letting it all hang out. She was starting to suspect the man had a bit of Firey blood. "Damion, we're going to leave the office for the night, do you want to come?"

"Well, I would, but I heard there's a party"

"PARTAY!" shouted all the Muppets with a chorus of loud whooping.

"and I thought I would join them," Damion finished, looking a little sheepish at the suggestion.

Leah smiled at him wryly. "That's quite alright, Damion. We'll see you back at the office tomorrow."

With that the only two humans left at Jim Henson Studios left for the night. They made it outside, and there was still a lot of traffic arround the L.A. lot.

"Here, let me try to get a cab," Jeremy said as he stepped forward and waved down a passing yellow taxi. The driver, a big heap of fur and muscle that was too large to fit in his own vehicle, honked happily at Jeremy and hooted out the window. "Hey Buddy, nice to see ya!" and continued to speed away.

Jeremy was utterly perplexed, and tried to wave down another cab. The squat dwarf that drove the cab rolled his windows down and shouted, "What do you think, that I am a chauffer or something? Go get your own ride, Pal!"

The man crinkled his brow and walked back over to Leah, who was trying to suppress a giggle. Jeremy blurted out a laugh in response. "Well, guess we're going to have to go on my bike."

"I don't suppose we can both fit on it?" Leah asked.

"Sure, it's a two-seater." He grinned broadly.

As they walked the sidewalk that shot through the lot to the bike rack, Leah asked, "Why didn't you just say that you had a bike in the first place?"

"I figured you'd had enough trouble for one night," he answered while unlocking the bike from the rack.

They hopped on and, after a few moments to adjust, were on their way. Leah bent close to Jeremy's ear so she could be heard. "Why does a single guy have a two-seater bike?"

He looked over his shoulder with a playful smile and answered, "I guess I've always been an optimist. I'd say it's paid off, wouldn't you?"

Leah couldn't help but wonder where this guy had been all her life. She laughed amiably and admired the transformed Los Angeles from the view of a bike made for two.

They arrived at Jeremy's apartment building without incident. Leah helped him lead his bike through the doorway, where they had to maneuver past a woman with large tusks. She huffed at them snobbishly.

They made it to the twenty-first floor of the high-rise complex, and finally to the apartment. On the way up Leah filled him in on the details that led to the day's rash of strange occurences.

Jeremy started to look for his key. "Would you believe rent here costs me close to three thousand dollars a month? This place is a dump."

Leah was obviously listening to something else. "Uh, Jeremy, do you have roommates?"

"No, why?" Jeremy followed Leah's gaze. His door was vibrating. He had been completely oblivious to the loud bass coming from inside.

He didn't stay perplexed for long. He opened the door to find a large group of strange characters littering his one-bedroom apartment. He put his bike in the narrow hallway and went to the living room to survey the damage.

The miscellaneous bunch were distracted in a variety of ways and hadn't seen Jeremy enter. Two three-foot high poofballs with mismatched legs and eyes were playing Tony Hawk Pro Skater II on his Playstation, a handful of squid-beings played cards, while everyone else chatted in the kitchen while consuming slices of pizza acquired from a large toppling tower of boxes. Jeremy approached the tottering boxes and gingerly removed a receipt from the top one, which displayed in careful dot matrix the sixteen digits that made up his credit card number. It also had the large sum of two hundred thirty dollars.

Jeremy summed the situation up and approached a large-mustached half-rat who was entertaining the group in the kitchen. He grabbed the rat-man's collar and looked him in the eyes. "Marty Miguel, you better have a good explanation for all this."

"Jeremy! You are home so soon!" the rat cooed. "Just lemme go and I'll explain!"

Jeremy dropped the man while Leah watched quietly from the hallway.

Marty looked over at her and clucked his tongue. "Ah, I see, gotta look tough in front of the lady." He waved to Leah. "Hello Mamasita!"

Jeremy shoved the rat. "Don't talk to her like that. Show some respect."

"Sorry Jerr," Marty answered sheepishly. "The fellas were just hungry, that's all."

"You know I don't have the cash for this kind of feast," Jeremy said, noting that all the boxes were empty but one. "You're gonna have to pay tomorrow, you know. You all better come back and clean this mess up." Jeremy started playing with a pencil he found on the counter, and tapped menacingly on the eraser at the end.

"Come back, Jerr? Where we goin'?" Marty looked sincerely concerned by Jeremy's ominous tapping.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and dropped the pencil on the counter. "To take your party somewhere else, that's where. We need to get some rest." He looked over at Leah. "Wanna Coke?"

Leah smiled wryly and nodded her head. Jeremy started to rummage through the fridge. He slammed the door quickly and jabbed Marty. "No Coke, either! You drank it all, you rat!"

"Well, yeah, I am a rat," Marty said, shrugging. "Don' get so mad, this is how you made me, Jerr." The rat started fumbling with his green tie. "Jerry, where we gonna go? You know we ain't got nowhere."

Jeremy scrounged for his backup stash of soda in the cupboard over the sink. He pulled out a can and a glass. "You pick a hell of a time to come to life," he mumbled while getting ice and pouring the soda into the glass. He shot a glance at the piece of paper the pencil had been sitting next to—it was a clean loose leaf sheet.

"I'm not kicking you out," he clarified while handing Leah the glass. "There's a party over at Pepe's place. Why don't you take the party over there?"

Marty looked relieved. "Oh sure, Jerr, no problem. We can do that." The rat turned to the living room. "Hey, fellas, we gotta go! Party at Pepe's!"

Everyone hooted their excitement. The poofball twins dropped the game controllers and the whole group hopped out of the apartment excitedly. Jeremy addressed Marty at the door. "Don't come back until after noon tomorrow, you got that?"

Marty winked at Jeremy conspiratorally. "You got it, Jerr."

"Oh, enough of that, I just don't want you to wake me up. Get outta here, already."

"Right, right Jerr. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"I'd better. You're gonna have to scrub the bathroom just for this!"

Jeremy closed the door with a hearty sigh and turned to face Leah, who was sipping happily on her Coke and smiling at him. "No roommates, huh?"

"Not in the traditional sense, no." Jeremy locked the door then went into the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. "I just make up characters all the time. Marty is one of my favorite ones... I've drawn him since I was six years old. When I first made him up, I would imagine that he was helping me clean my room, cause I always hated it so much." He talked while munching. "I was doodling him the other day. I just figured he came to life while I was away."

Leah slanted a brow at him. "You figured, huh?" She poked the funny-looking pizza circumspectly. "What kind of pizza is that, anyway?"

"Chocolate and marshmallow, the way I figure it," Jeremy said, chewing thoughtfully.

"Think I'll pass," Leah said, closing the pizza box.

"Suit yourself," he answered with a smug smile. He turned the Playstation off and switched the channel to MSNBC.

"Huh, looks like your sister is playing havoc in New York," he said between bites.

Leah walked over to observe the scene.

"The lights are bright in Broadway, tonight as every night," the ironically well-spoken goblin anchor-woman said with a genteel smile filled with a row of small teeth. To the left of her, a screen graphic illustrated Sarah's seductively smiling face. Underneath it was written, "Queen Sarah's Visit."

The screen moved to a previously recorded scene while the anchorwoman continued her reporting. "But the lights were that much brighter when Queen Sarah made an appearance before a throng of her new citizens at the base of the newly rennovated Times Building."

Sarah stood in front of a large group of humans and creatures alike, who held a variety of signs upon which were scrawled things like, "We love you, Sarah," and "You're my hero."

"Somebody's a big star all of a sudden," Jeremy remarked dryly.

Leah continued to watch the program in silence.

"Individuals from all over the United States and Canada have come in great numbers just to get a glimpse of the Queen," the anchorwoman continued. "Spokesgoblins for the Queen have reported that she will be traveling abroad soon to spread word of the new regime. Until then, she has plans to do a short campaign trail some major U.S. cities to speak about her plans for the New World."

A camera passed over the crowd to show the large cluster of fans, and moved in to show Sarah waving and smiling like a friendly ambassador. Another camera zoomed in for a close up.

"I want to thank all of the gracious beings of this city for welcoming me so warmly. I wouldn't have been able to accomplish so much if it weren't for your help." With that, she waved again and climbed into a long, black limo.

"The Queen was spotted later this evening at Studio 54. Correspondents have discovered that she is now in complete control of the guest list."

The camera at the news studio pulled back to reveal the male anchor who responded with a fake chuckle. "Watch out all you hipsters, if you thought the club was discerning before, wait until the Queen gets hold!"

The female anchor laughed emptily. "That's right, John! The Queen does have impeccable taste. Have you seen the fashions she has sported in the last hour? Stunning!"

"I certainly have, Joan. The Queen sparkles as brightly as the jewels she wears!"

He sobered up quickly as he pressed his finger to his earpiece to receive an urgent message. "I wish our next story was as joyful as our first, Joan." A new infographic appeared to his left. It sported a picture of a giant chicken. "It seems that Alan Rickman, actor of Harry Potter fame, has befallen great tragedy this evening. Let's go live to the scene to hear a bystander's side of it."

The image cut to a busy sidewalk, where a Fiery man in Nike running gear was jogging in place. Behind him stood a giant chicken with a long, aquiline nose.

"Yeah, man, like, Queen Sarah was comin' down the street, you know, goin' to Studio 54 and Alan Rickman was waiting in line, and you know, he called her a tart!" The large chicken behind him started clucking angrily. "She turned him into a giant chicken, man! Lookit'im, he's a giant chicken!"

The camera zoomed in on the chicken, who looked distinctly like Alan Rickman, before jumping back to the studio. The goblin anchors were in hysterics, rolling all over the fake desk. "A giant chicken! Ha ha ha ha!"

Leah grabbed the remote from Jeremy and changed the channel. Jeremy was too busy laughing himself silly to notice. Leah shot him a look. "I like Alan Rickman, you know."

Jeremy tried to regain his composure. "Oh, so do I, so do I." He put his finger to his lip as if trying to remain manly and thoughtful, then started stuttering goofily. "But, you know, a _giant chicken_."

"Ha ha, so funny. I'm dying over here," Leah spouted with a coy smile. "You'd think we were in the middle of a Warner Brothers cartoon."

"I'd say that about sums it up, yeah," Jeremy said with a grin.

Leah had flipped the station to the Home Shopping Network. A beast woman was modeling a fashion that looked like a horrible imitation of a designer line. "And here we have the black little number that Queen Sarah wore two hours ago, isn't it just darling? We're taking calls now for this cute ensemble, and just for you folks, we're charging a mere fifty-nine, ninety-nine. Can you beat that Sue?" The camera switched over to show two large beast women with large tusks and pink hair chatting. "It really is darling, Betty, you can't beat that price."

Again Leah flipped the channel, becoming increasingly disgusted. She stumbled on the local cable access channel, where a school play was being filmed. A young girl stood before a tall man with a mullet who was decked in white feathers. The sound on the video was horrible, obviously videotaped by an amateur with cheap equipment. The lines of dialogue were choppy and phoney, like most high school productions.

"I have re-ordered time," the man said. "I have turned the world up-side down, and I have done it all for you!" The worlds were blurted out ungracefully as he swept his poorly made cape around his back and circled the girl. "I'm tired of living up to your expectations of me, Sarah."

Leah's eyes were glued to the screen with a look of complete incredulity. "This isn't... happening," she mumbled.

The man pulled out what looked like a glass ball and held it before the girl with an outstretched arm. "Look what I'm offering you, Sarah. Your dreams."

The girl stepped forward with pained forcefulness. "You have no power over me!" she belted out in the most heavy Valley Girl accent Leah had ever heard.

The man swung his large cape over his body and disappeared in the shadows while stage hands changed the scenery behind her into that of a hot pink bedroom. The actress who played Sarah—horribly, Leah thought—was now sitting with a phoney smile on the prop bed, snuggling a blue plush bear to her chest. "We're home, Lancey-poo," she cooed. She put the bear down and approached a crib, where she pulled a toy baby out. "Oh Toby, I'm glad you're okay."

Leah watched the rest of the story play out while Jeremy tried to clean up the rest of the mess in the kitchen. When the play was done, the screen cut to an image of a little red book with gold letters. A voiceover declared, "You have been watching Bayville High School's presentation of 'The Labyrinth.' Thank you for watching, and tune in next week for an encore presentation, and the recently released sequel"

Leah turned off the television with complete disgust. "What the hell is the deal? Is it going to be all Sarah, all the time now? I never thought she was this self-absorbed."

Jeremy appeared from a hall closet with a sheet and blanket. "Maybe she just needs to get as much press right now as possible."

"And why are people... things... why is anyone up at this hour? I don't understand."

"Hmm, maybe there's no reason to go to sleep. Now that there's nothing to dream about anymore." Jeremy's face lengthened at the notion. He made the finishing touches on the couch with Leah's help. He fluffed the pillow as a closing gesture.

"I don't know, but my body is telling me I still need to sleep. Right now, I think." Leah yawned deeply, feeling the tiredness in her bones. "Thanks for making up the couch for me."

"Oh no, this is for me. You can sleep in my room."

"But"

"Now, now, I don't want to hear a word. Off to bed with you." He led her to the bedroom, which was miraculously unscathed.

"You sure?" Leah said, feeling a little guilty when she saw the big king sized bed, neatly made up. She was surprised at how little like a guy's room it looked. It was clean and organized, with a large poster of Miles Davis playing the trumpet overlooking the bed.

"Of course I'm sure. Besides, I gotta clean up a bit before I can get rested," he answered as he started to close the door.

"I thought you hated cleaning," Leah pressed.

"I was six then," he said with a smile. "I'm all growed up now."

Leah gave him a sweet smile she only used on special occasions. "Thank you."

"Sweet dreams," he said with a goofy grin as he closed the door behind her. She instantly threw back the covers and plopped into bed. She stared at the dark ceiling a few moments, digesting her day. She thought of Sarah, and all the trouble her pseudo-sister had caused and gotten herself into. She thought of the changed world, where no one slept, and cartoons came to life. She thought about how horrid chocolate and marshmallow pizza must taste, and how sad it was that Sarah had turned Alan Rickman into a chicken (she would make her pay for that when it was all over with).

But, more than anything, she thought of the kindly puppeteer named Jeremy, and his goofy grin.

* * *

She didn't know he was thinking of her, too. After he closed the door, he ambled lazily into the bathroom and started rubbing at the stubble on his chin disdainfully. He picked up the razor sitting on the sink and started talking to it. "Well, little pal, we got a good reason to shave for a change." As he lathered up with shaving cream, he smiled broadly into the mirror. "What a great day," he mouthed with satisfaction from a mouth circled in foam.

Sarah liked the way things were going more with each passing moment. She had booked the room at Le Parker Meridien thinking she would need to rest, but she in fact felt more rested than ever in her life. Instead of returning to the room, she and Claw continued carrying out the duties required to spread the virus that would keep the worlds neatly joined.

The top floor of the Times building was clear of all walls, and had been transformed into a sprawling room, with large in-swinging windows for entry and exit. The only other means of entry were underground, openings of which only Sarah's closest minions would be aware. Pook had been right all along.

Though there were no walls, hanging fabric and deep scarlet foliage partioned the large room into different areas. A large lounging throne sat in the center of the room, near the glass doorway, which was surrounded by many plasma screen televisions dangling from the ceiling. Each one showed a different, rotating view of the city. Other smaller televisions showed a handful of capital cities around the world. Paris, London, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Sydney... No place was safe from the merging of the worlds, and the changes spread like a ripple effect from Sarah's headquarters in New York.

The large room was empty except for Claw, an aviary of sharp-looking ravens, and a handful of busy-looking creatures.

Sarah took the moment to lounge, as she had been very busy with public appearances most of the night. She looked up at the barren wall over the vast doorway and, with a minute amount of concentration on her part, a three-foot diameter clock appeared. Sarah smirked, having a dramatic notion, and squinted at the clock. A thirteenth hour was instantly added.

"Why thirteen hours?" Claw said as he came toward the throne.

Sarah smiled. "It's an inside joke."

"I see." The bird looked out the window. "I came to tell you that I've sent out a few more troupes of the surveillance team. There's also another thousand who signed up to be in your royal army." Claw shook his head in amazement. "I don't know how you're doing it."

Sarah stood before a large plasma screen that dangled lower than the rest, and flipped through images. "Someone taught me a long time ago that your average person doesn't require much to be tempted into complete submission. Just start with their hopes and dreams, and you will come very close to getting what you want from just about anybody."

"What about the rest?" Claw asked, sincerely curious.

"Either you gracefully fork over the win, or you crush them."

Claw seemed a little uncomfortable by her statement, even if he obviously revered her great power.

Sarah saw the flash of surprise wash over his face. Yes, she knew it was harsh. But Jareth had been cruel to her, once, and he taught her the value of making people pay for fighting back. At the time, she had thought him unnecessarily cruel. Now she understood what his game was, and why cruelty was necessary. However, she would never let him get away with that cruelty. She also knew that part of the rules of the game were that revenge is eternal, and that the greatest warrior never lets conscience stand in the way of expediency. It was the way of things. Someday she would wrong someone stronger than herself, and they would come to collect payment. But that day was far off, and today was the day to make the most of her spoils.

The shop that she had sent Claw to investigate had turned up empty. While she was suspicious of the former inhabitants, she had been getting an increasing amount of false alarms. Untransformed humans abounded, and there were little pockets of magical forces all over the city forming. She suspected many people guilty of forming rebellious groups. She would deal with them all in due time.

She knew Jareth was somewhere around, and that he probably had not been terribly changed by the merger. She wasn't yet strong enough to sense where he was, and there was no telling how far away he would be. However, once the initial plans had been put in place and she could divert some of her energy to larger spells, she would be able to do a location spell to find Jareth, Toby, and anyone else that she hadn't left trapped in the Mist of Dreams.

Sarah looked at Claw with a summing glance. The bird was clever, associating himself only with the strongest people, seeming casual and only mildly interested in any passing affairs. But she knew that somehow he was the secret behind Kaleb's power, that this bird had more to him than he put on display. It was time to test his merit.

She brough forth an image on screen. The camera seemed to be zooming through a warp hole before manifesting in the middle of a dry mesa desert where muddy river beds dotted the land. It was encased in mist. As the camera slowed down, a large group of travelers came into view, most of which were sleeping before a great fire. It was Light Sarah's troupe, but nowhere was she to be found. Dark Sarah assumed that her counterpart and a few other travelers including Sage were inside the cave by the riverbed. Two Aborigine men slept with the group.

The cave prevented a detailed head count, but it didn't matter, because Sarah found what she was looking for instantly.

"Move in on Hoggle," she said into a little microphone that arched beside her throne. It wasn't clear to whom she was speaking, but the camera moved with smooth swiftness in front of the sleeping Hoggle. His knobby face was contorted with obvious nightmares. His usual baubles decorated his leather belt. However, a new item was attached by a string—a shiny, black Raven's feather.

"Kaleb," Sarah mouthed with a sinewy smile. She turned to Claw, who had been keenly watching her actions. "I want you to get that feather for me."

"How do you know that's Kaleb?" Claw pressed.

Sarah looked at the image of the feather, and felt a current pass through space, toward her. It drew her to it. It called her. She could hear a familiar voice on the wind. It wanted away, but did not know to whom it was really calling. It would probably regret once it found out she had been the one listening.

"I just do," she said, reclining in her throne again. "I also know they must have something in their possession that did that to him. They couldn't have done it on their own weak magic." She seemed to rethink her decision to relax and rose again to pull on a heavy coat. "I have things to tend to right now. You retrieve the feather and find out how they did it to him. If they have any talismans in their possession, I want them." She waved the large doors open with a hand. They made a heavy swooshing sound a s they slid open. A small dragon arced gracefully from a distance on the horizon, floating past the moon on shiny wings as it slowly approached the window of the Times building. It was the color of amber and ruby, sneering as it raised its haunches and carefully set its heavy mass down on the throne room floor.

The beast hissed as it let out a hot sigh. "You rang?" It slipped Sarah a bitter snarl then looked away from her, as if it didn't care about her answer.

Sarah climbed onto the harness on its back without acknowledging it's dissenting looks.

"Why do you want Kaleb?" Claw asked curiously.

"Why shouldn't I want Kaleb?" she said with a simmering glossy smile.

"Should I list the reasons?" Claw's mild sarcasm echoed in the large room. Several of the creatures who were tending to different bits of business in the great room looked up from their work suddenly, as if they thought him a fool to even consider such a tone with the queen.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of him, Claw," Sarah said with a chuckle. The onlookers seemed amazed that the bird had received no retribution for his speech.

The bird grunted. "Far from it. But I just want to make sure that having him around suits a good purpose."

"Does a cat have a good reason for toying with a mouse, Claw?" Sarah stroked the scales of the dragon seductively, which only made the dragon sneer more. Smoke curled from its nose in disgust. Sarah sighed. "If I knew where Jareth was, I'd be toying with him instead."

"It appears to me you have a bad opinion of most men," Claw observed.

"Not in the least. But some men, Claw, have great debts to pay. It's time for payback."

"That is something we agree on, my Liege," Claw said with a twisting grin on the edge of his beak. Claw brought his wings to air, and together he and the dragon rose into the night sky of New York, each one leaving with purposes of some dark intent.

Sarah sat erect atop the dragon's back and looked out over the purpleish night sky with a strange, satisfying darkness at the pit of her stomach. When the transformation first took hold, when Kaleb split her in two, light and dark, Id and Ego, she had certain expectations about who she would be and how her plans would turn out. Something that had surfaced was a deep depression, and she found herself noticing it less and less. As a whole person, she had been a mostly upbeat person, only prone to occasional fits of brooding. Or had she? Being split down the middle, each side became clearer. She felt disgusted over the weaknesses the other half of her had afforded.

Being walked on, manipulated, toyed with, disrespected, unappreciated, and so deeply concerned with the opinions of others. How could anyone be so willing to be at home with their vulnerabilities and weaknesses? Why is it that humanity woke up every single day to a world filled with every type of obstacle imagineable standing in the way of their true dreams? Why would people let anyone take away from them what they truly wanted? Why was everyone so eager to be a team player for a society that could care less about their efforts? It was all a big charade meant to hold up the status quo. And it was obvious how valuable that status quo was—Sarah had turned it upside down in a matter of hours. She would show them what leadership, power, and determination brought. She would show them that the darkness they had so long hidden themselves from was not to be feared, but embraced. For years now the yang was flowing under the surface, having to hold a shameful yin face in public. The real history stayed locked away, the chaos and dreams tempered to sleep, where they would stay docile and unthreatening.

Sarah was fed up. Living in a world where everyone told her it was a foolish wish to want to be an actress. Ever since she had been a child, there had been someone above her telling her exactly why her dreams were a fools paradise, why she needed to straighten up, get practical, grow up. Well, she grew up for certain, grew above and beyond each and every one of them, and now was giving the world a new testimony. Those who would have bridled the power to keep it safe were now facing the consequences of their selfishness. They would live the rest of their days out on a world where the power was accessible to all, where the dreams were awake.

Purple clouds dotted the night sky, through which a smattering of flying beasts of all kinds flew, trailing cool, misty smoke behind them where the mist had clung to their tails.

"You're wrong, you know," the dragon growled, interrupting Sarah's thoughts.

Sarah started at the suddenly broken silence. She knew she was toying with great danger by trying to control a dragon for her means of travel, but she also knew that she possessed the power to control it. The dragons had not changed in the merger, for they were beings of profound depth that understood the universe on all its levels. It didn't surprise her too much to think that a dragon would be the most likely to raise its voice against her.

"You think you are freeing them, but you've just enslaved them all the more." Sulfurous smoke swept from its nose past Sarah's face as it spoke, and made her cough.

"Them? Aren't you also one of my minions?" Sarah countered.

A snort forced its way out of the dragon's chest and nose and shook Sarah in her harness. "For now. Not for long." Its voice was so deep and rough, it sounded like rocks falling down a mountain in an avalanche.

"Tell me why that is," Sarah said, becoming more angry with every word that slipped out of the dragon's leering jaws. She tried to tell herself there was no reason to fear the dragon, as the power she owned was increasingly far greater than its own.

"Don't ask me stupid questions," the dragon shot back in a deep, booming voice. "You are controlling power you don't understand. The amethyst is more than a stone of power. It has a deeper past than you can even begin to fathom with your tiny mortal mind. Even if you were wise enough to understand it, the fact that you would even use it makes you a fool." The dragon snorted again. "Only dragons understand the price of power."

"Maybe you don't understand the price of speaking to me with such indiscretion," Sarah snapped. She concentrated upon stealing the dragon's capability to breathe fire as punishment, for she knew it was a dragon's primary means of survival. "Try speaking to me with such a fiery tone again, I dare you."

A rumbling rose in the dragon's stomach, rolling and gaining force, sounding at all summary inspection like a pained choke. As the moments passed, it became evident that the rumbling was only the beginning of a hearty, meniacal laugh, a croaking, shaking belly of angry dragon laughter that forced Sarah to hold on tightly to keep from falling thousands of feet to the ground. The dragon opened its mouth, showing two rows of burned teeth and a gaping, smoking throat filled with a light blue flame. The flame rose in pitch and color until a great, bellowing fire raged out of its mouth, singing the top of the trees below for a half mile.

Sarah's face became white with fear.

The dragon set down on a large grassy hill in the middle of nowhere. "Get off!" bellowed the dragon.

Sarah grudgingly did as bid. She stood before the dragon. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The dragon bent its neck down, bringing its angled face close to Sarah's. It's head alone was half her height. "You think such parlor tricks can take the primordial breath of a dragon?" It laughed fifully at the notion. "You are playing a dangerous game little human female. You are lucky I find it so funny."

Sarah thought of the plummet she nearly took, and knew it was well within the dragon's power to kill her if it chose.

"No, I didn't kill you," the dragon responded to her thoughts with slitted eyes. "No one can kill you until this mess plays out." It snorted a heavy bellow of smoke. "If it weren't for those blasted faery sisters and their meddling, I would have already taken it upon myself. But dragons, unlike humans, _know when to listen_." Its yellow eyes pierced into Sarah's green eyes with heavy judgment. Sarah's face was drawn and bitter, her hair whipping around in a blustering wind that made her anger all the more apparent. She was trying to decide how to deal with the situation. She had been heading to San Francisco to continue working her press coverage, but was instead standing on a hill in the middle of nowhere being talked down by a bitchy dragon.

The dragon rolled its eyes. "You're not even listening, lost in thought over your petty conquest." A large fire escaped from its mouth into the air, looking for all the world like it had a flamethrower trapped in its breast. Sarah initially thought the movement was meant as a threat, but suddenly noticed that a large throng of black figures were approaching from all cardinal directions.

Soon, eight more dragons had arrived, each glistening a different gem color, encircling the suddenly small woman with vicious eyes.

The dragon that had brought her there turned to her with a licivious smile. "Not that I think this is going to change your childish behavior, Sarah of Sunset City... or should I say, little Sarah Williams of Forest Grove? You should have stayed there, you are still the spoiled brat you were when you came to our land nine years ago."

"A fool," another dragon concurred as smoke roiled from its nostrils.

Sarah was sitting in the middle of two directly opposed emotions. On one side she felt intimidated by the hulking masses of the ancient beasts, all circled around her, their hot breath nearly suffocating her. On the other side, she was in the midst of a heavy wrath that hadn't set upon her since Alan Rickman called her a tart earlier that evening.

"We dragons will be watching you. And when the time arrives, you should know that we are going to make a move. We don't have the patience for your petulance," the amber-colored dragon threatened.

A sapphire blue dragon shook its head in confusion. "I don't understand what Jareth sees in her."

Sarah's eyes started roiling with purplish light.

The forest green dragon chimed in. "Don't be a fool, you know it's not this one that Jareth has fallen in love with." It gave Sarah a steaming glare. "This one wasn't ever supposed to get out. If she were put back in her place, everything would be put aright."

The blustering wind grew in pitch, rustling Sarah's heavy wool coat. Her neck tensed visibly. "I think you should all be silent," she mumbled, craning her head forward slowly.

The amber dragon, obviously the oldest of the bunch, silenced the group. "That's enough. Let us just leave her here to think about her stupidity."

Sarah's brow raised then fell as she clenched her fists. "I SAID I'VE HEARD ENOUGH!"

Lightning ripped through the air, while the wind pelted the group with such force even the scaly dragons could feel it. Soon the lightning filled the air, blinding all the dragons with white light. They brought their wings over their faces to shield against the bright glare that soon consumed everything.

When the light died down, Sarah was sitting in the plush couch at an office in San Francisco, her hair still sticking with static electricity, her eyes still afire with purple light. The elfin-faced fae that owned the office didn't look in the least bit startled by her arrival, and continued in its previous task of placing a book back on a shelf. It smoothed out its smart suit and swept two fingers of a four-fingere hand through its wild hair before sitting primly in its desk. "Good to see you could make it," the Perfidious Pook commented. "I wasn't expecting you for another half hour, but, of course, it is never too soon to look upon your loveliness, Queen Sarah."

Sarah's hair instantly calmed, quietly laying back into long, dark rivulets around her shoulders. "Thank you, Pook. I had to forgo my more leisurely transportation in favor of something less argumentative."

"I tried to tell you that dragons were trouble," the asexual Pook commented with a wry, crooked brow.

"Well, it is taken care of." Sarah brushed her earlier anger aside, and laugh that could be called nothing less than evil creeped out.

She wondered how the dragons liked being gargoyles for her home in Times Square.

* * *

Gail met her boss in a little café that they once frequented. His face was submerged in shadows, but she was grateful just to see his sharp nose poking into the light. It meant he was alright. He hadn't just been her boss, but her dearest friend.

He laughed at her in that way he had. Laughing off the whole thing, in all its seriousness. Ever since he had gotten married, she had watched his cares float away with the healing hands of love more each year.

They talked for some time while Gail sipped her coffee wistfully. "So, what do you think we should do? Sarah used the television broadcast to draw energies to her."

He nodded. "Very clever girl. I wish I had thought of that." He laughed carelessly.

"You already did, you know."

"Yes, yes. But I could have done so much more. Could have ruled the world." He smirked. "Didn't care enough for it to try, though. I wonder how much hair product I would have to wear in order to rule it, though? I would have to wear product every moment."

"You already do, don't you?"

"Oh, right." He put his coffee on the table and got serious. "But that's what we do."

"What?"

"We use her own game against her. If you girls can put together something to defeat her, I can pull something together to take her troops' mind off all this insanity."

"And what would that be?"

"Just a little song and dance. A little song and dance to take their minds off her and her war and her beguiling fantasies." He spread his hands across the sky as if painting a billboard. "I can see it now! The biggest concert ever!"

She lost herself in laughter. She knew it would work. He always had a way of making her forget herself, so why not the whole world?

* * *

In the far east, there were giants that roamed a rocky land. They built houses of bamboo and left great footprints in the marshes that sucked up with water over time. The small people below trembled in their passing, but they were a kindly race and had no intentions of harming their neighbors.

A flock of birds came to visit the queen. She was pondering a dream she had had the previous night, in which she was a queen of dwarves in a land underground. A bird sat on the tip of her nose, like a bug, and she had to be very still in order to hear his words.

"There's a war brewing in the lands west. You must get your fleet of ships and join in battle against the dark queen."

The dwarf queen nodded solemnly, agreeing that the bird's words were true. He flew off and she rose out of her enormous throne, and gestured to the captain of her battalion to make preparations.


	12. Chapter X Bad Dreams

"This is just crazy," Brenda said as she bent over the map of the world she had spread on the messy kitchen table of Ashley's house. "I've never seen anything like it."

The coven had successfully relocated, and even though everyone was exhausted and ready for bed, they managed to stay up a little longer. No one wanted to sleep until they at least had a notion of where Sarah was, especially if she was getting close to finding them.

Ashley had raided her cupboards, and had a chocolate chip cookie lodged in her mouth. She was walking in the background, totally ignoring Brenda and adressing Marlena across the cluttered dining room. Her words came out muffled over the cookie. "Maybe she won't find us now that we've separated. She's probably just looking for Jareth and Toby, anyway."

"And that's so much better, Ashley!" Ling remarked incredulously.

Ashley shrugged and swallowed. "I'm just sayin'."

"Can you two keep it down?" Marlena said, putting her hand to her weary head. "Brenda is onto something."

Gail bent close over the map with Brenda to examine it. "I'd say she is."

Marlena got up from where she had been sitting on a short book shelf and got a look herself. Two dots glowed on the map, both of which seemed not to be sitting very still.

"I've done the spell several times now," Brenda said, shaking her head. "I'm getting two readings. And one of them is jumping all over the continental United States. The other one," she exclaimed, jabbing her finger into the map, "is in Australia."

"There's got to be something wrong," Ling remarked as she watched the dots. For the time being, they were both sitting relatively still.

"Maybe magic doesn't work the same, now," Ashley offered.

"Who knows," Brenda said, shrugging.

Gail's brow furrowed in thought. "The first one... Where has it been?"

"New York, Wyoming, Northern California, and, for a few moments, Washington D.C.." She pointed to Los Angeles on the map. "Not only that, but there's some weird little black spot right here that keeps phasing in and out. I'm telling you, it's absolutely nuts."

"Maybe Jareth would know something about it," Marlena offered.

"Hey, that gives me an idea," Gail blurted. "Do the spell again to see where Jareth is at."

"We know where he's at," Ashley said.

"Just humor me." Gail turned her gaze expectantly to Brenda.

The blonde woman's makeup was starting to show the strain of time and lack of sleep. She sighed and closed her eyes, chanting a few lines in Latin from memory. Or so it seemed. Her eyes shot open. "Oh fuck it, I never can remember the whole thing." She looked at the map in frustration as if it were a person she had grown weary of from being in close proximity for too long. "Where's Jareth?" she asked it.

The first two dots disappeared, and two new ones emerged. A bright spot in New York, and a dark spot that seemed to be flying away from Australia, over the Atlantic Ocean.

Gail and Brenda's eyes met. "There's something to this," Gail said with certainty. "What was it Jareth said about Kaleb?"

Marlena bent low to the map and watched the black dot move in amazement. "He said that Kaleb was his shadow. That's gotta be him."

"I thought he was with Sarah," Ashley said, her brow crinkled in complete confusion.

"That doesn't make sense," Ling continued. "Sarah isn't in Australia, she's in the U.S. Mostly New York, right? Which means Kaleb would be with her."

"This is a positive mind-fuck," Ashley said, shaking her head.

"Does Sarah have a shadow?" Gail asked.

"Hmm. Maybe," Marlena mused. "That would explain the black dots. Maybe Sarah's shadow is in... L.A.?"

"So, then, what's this other dot in Australia?" Brenda asked, pointing to the dot in question. She had changed the map to reflect all the appropriate dots/people in the conversation.

Marlena collapsed into a chair at the dining table. She stared at the map so intensely she thought the dots might burn into her retinas permanently. Then she had a brainstorm.

"Jareth had a dream before the change," Marlena declared suddenly. She looked up at them, their faces intent and curious, beautiful women carved out of darkness through soft lamp glow.

Marlena continued. "There were two Sarah's in his dream... A white Sarah and a dark Sarah, and they each stood over a world, presumable Underground and Aboveground. Then, in the dream, the two worlds merged."

"Couldn't the other Sarah be her shadow?" Ashley asked, intrigued.

"I don't think so," Marlena answered, shaking her head. "The shadow is it's own person." Marlena stood back over the map and examined Sarah's dots more closely. "See? Neither one of them is as bright as Jareth's light. They aren't whole. One of them is trapped in Australia."

"That's just crazy," Ashley declared with wide eyes as she stuffed another cookie in her mouth. Ling grabbed the bag and consumed one, too.

"I don't know, I could be wrong..." Marlena said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Gail folded up the map. "No, I think you're right."

"Should we call Jareth?" Brenda asked. "It might make sense to him."

Marlena shook her head. "I don't know if that's best, not right this moment. I really hope he's getting some rest right now. Besides, if Kaleb isn't with Sarah, it means that she's doing this all on her own. That might upset him more than not knowing. At least for tonight." She bent over to blow out one of the candles. "And we should all get some rest, too. Morning is already sneaking up on us, and we have to be ready to make our move by tomorrow night, hopefully sooner."

* * *

Sarah stared at the crackling fire from just inside the cave, only looking away from time to time to examine the sleeping faces of her companions. She had been wrestling with the implications that somehow both worlds had combined for a couple of hours. She felt helpless, tossed aside, unable to make heads or tails of what was going on deep in the Mists. Eberon had revealed to the group during their journey that there was another side of Sarah at work, a darker half that had left Kaleb's castle a night ago with all of the pieces of the Amethyst in her possession.

Which meant that her darker half had complete control of the situation, and probably knew exactly where she was, willfully keeping her lighter half trapped in the Mist of Dreams. There was nothing quite like being tossed aside by your first true love, then being tossed aside by your own self.

But she didn't pity herself long, because she knew that a solution would come about, and everything would be right again. Besides, it was fruitless trying to blame Jareth for leaving in order to get himself straightened out. She felt weak and powerless at the moment, but something had to happen to turn the tables. She would hope beyond hope that the faery sisters hadn't thrown her into this affair willy-nilly, without even considering a possibility for success. Would they?

Sarah drew her knees to her chest and continued her watchful gaze over the camp site. Everyone seemed to be sleeping so deeply, but their faces occasionally fell into contorted faces of discomfort, as if they were having nightmares. She wondered if everyone looked so pained and worrisome in their sleep. The only person she had ever truly watched sleeping for any length of time was Toby, when he was a baby.

She looked up at the moonless, misty sky and pictured his face. It had been a long time since she had seen her little half-brother, and she missed him greatly. She wondered where he was in all of this, if he was safe. A pang of regret ached in her chest, as she thought about how long it had been since he had visited the world Underground, and how he had completely forgotten about the adventure. She wished she had felt as if she could tell him, could explain why she let Leah replace her as the dutiful sister. She never had the courage, because she always thought he would have felt abandoned. Maybe when he was older. When he became an adolescent, she could explain his hidden past, her shadow, Leah, and his emerging powers.

_You should just tell him and get it over with_, she scolded herself. _He's only going to get into more trouble if he doesn't understand his powers. Kinda like the trouble you are in now_.

Her mind was so busy, but it wasn't busy thoughts that kept her awake. She was just _awake_. Not one part of her mind was asleep, and the sensation was overwhelming. She longed for distraction, but there was nowhere for her to go, or anything for her mind to do but mull. How was it that everyone else needed the deepest sleep, and she did not?

Her gaze returned to the fire, to the deep glowing embers. As she stared, the world faded, she became one with the glowing ash. And it morphed into lava, into the primordial elements that breathed life into the world. Then it was the night sky, full of orange stars, full of big, glowing spheres of planets, spinning around suns and stars of all colors and sizes. The universe expanded, an infinate embrace into the womb of nothingness, welcoming just for her. Part of her realized her mind had gone somewhere else, but that part was so quiet, so subdued in the face of this non-self that she had become in that instant she had focused on the embers of the fire. A brief flare inside told her that this was an out of body experience, that she had triggered some unlocked part of her mind.

As the universe opened, she saw a gateway. There was a silhouette of a figure standing in front of the gate, neither male nor female. She could sense that they had met before, met many times before. The Gatekeeper smiled at her without smiling, a comforting and terrifying figure that saw all and understood all. It touched her hand and relayed the sense of everything, of the oneness of the universe. But, in her current form, she could not comprehend what she was seeing, only that _all the pieces fit_.

All of her earthly troubles had been shucked off like a dried corn husk, and she felt full and at peace. The Gatekeeper stood in front of the opening, which was like a white tear in the fabric of the universe, the door between Underground and Aboveground. But it was slowly closing, so slowly that the naked eye would never be able to discern it, but just fast enough to be alarming.

The black void of the Gatekeeper seemed to be frowning, for the pieces were starting to fall out of place. With one empty hand, the timeless being drew the shape of Dark Sarah in the stars, her green eyes twinkling in fire into the depth of Light Sarah's blue eyes. There was a longing in Sarah's heart, a strong tie to that other self that went beyond conscious longing. A longing to be whole again, to be in full possession of her faculties. A longing like one she had felt before while sitting alone in her room on her most grim days, wishing that God would speak to her. Since then, Sarah had learned to open her perception of the guiding forces of the universe, to not try so hard to define those things which she could not understand, to look deeper in herself for answers. The split she felt was in that deep darkness. The split was there to tell her something, but it could not stay severed for long. She must put all the pieces back in place.

_You are the strong one_, the Gatekeeper's voice echoed from no discernible location. _You come from the fabric of the universe, as does she. The universe must stay in balance. Neutrality is different than mortals perceive, Sarah. Neutrality, from a mortal perspective, is completely neutral. But, to the higher spirits, it is positive in force. Until the universe winks out of existence, it will always be positive. The universe is light in darkness. The light is the meaning. She has no meaning without you._

Sarah felt something tugging at her, a sensation of solidity that was distracting her back into her real self. _Don't I need her for meaning, too_? she asked the void as she felt herself slipping out of the vision.

The Gatekeeper smiled at her as she drifted elsewhere. It did not give her an answer. _You are more than the sum of your parts, Sarah. You are not yourself. You are so much more. We will see you again. Don't get lost in the darkness._

The further away she drifted, the light from the gateway twisted and writhed, swimming before her eyes, growing longer and curling into the shape of a coiled snake.

"Where is it?"

Sarah's eyes shot open with a start. She was laying on the dirt ground of the cave, rock shapes imprinted in her cheek. Instantly she jumped up, and ran out to see what the ruckus was. A very dim bit of light filtered through the mist, but it felt more like twilight than day.

Hoggle was stomping and huffing about furiously, rattling through his baubles and pockets with a fury. Everyone seemed as if they had been awake for a bit, but their eyes were heavy and tired as they ran to the dwarf's side.

"What is it, Hoggle?" Benedick asked.

"The feather and the trinket my father gave me, they're gone! Who took'em?" He shot an accusing glare at the Aborgine men.

"Look, brother, we don't have anywhere to hide anything," Albert said stoically. He pulled his pockets inside out. "See?"

"That's not good," Sarah said as she rubbed her sleep-encrusted eyes. "I wonder where they could have gone to?"

Sage put his hand on Sarah's arm, examining her with a troubled gaze. "How are you feeling? Well rested?"

"Well, I guess, but I really didn't sleep much, I don't think. I was wide awake for most of the night, then I just suddenly conked out. I don't remember when I fell asleep."

Everyone turned away from Hoggle, and looked intently at Sarah.

"Lass, I'm afraid that just isn't true," Granen said.

Sarah felt like she had an extra arm growing out of her chest. "Excuse me?" she said with confusion, closing with an uncomfortable chuckle.

"You fell asleep before any of us," Sage corrected gently. "You seemed to be in the midst of terrible nightmares."

Isabelle held her other arm tenderly. "You were... screaming all night, Sarah."

Their implications filled Sarah with horror. "I hate to be so adamant, but I know I was awake... I went into some sort of trance, and... well, even if I was asleep, I didn't have nightmares by any stretch of the imagination." She blinked away oncoming tears. "I... I had beautiful dreams."

Granen wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. His strong grasp was soothing. Sarah looked into the bearded man's green eyes and saw a deep tiredness mirrored there. She had never seen him so weary and bedraggled. "It will be okay, Sarah, we'll figure it out."

Hoggle seemed to have mostly forgotten the loss of Kaleb's feather, completely overwhelmed with concern over his friend.

"What time is it?" Sarah asked.

"It's only been a few hours since we set up camp," Sage answered.

Sarah looked around, and guessed that his statement explained the continued darkness of the camp. "Have any of you slept?"

They all shook their heads.

"Why not?" Her stomache ached with dread over the response.

Benedick and Sage looked at each other, as did Isabelle and Vindar.

"Bad dreams," Isabelle said.

Eepwot managed to look a little tired too, and added, "Boy, were they ever." Ludo seconded his statement with a slow nod of his shaggy head.

Sarah shook her head in frustration. "What is going on? How are we going to continue on if no one can sleep?" She looked around at the group, and knew instantly that they were too tired to move. "You all look like hell warmed over."

Vindar took the chance to make an exploration of the area. Isabelle gave him a questioning look, and he gave her a tired, soothing smile before he left to reassure her.

Mandelbrot stepped forward. "We could try a warding spell," he offered. "I agree, we won't be worth much if we don't get any sleep. Sarah's condition makes me suspect that there's something more at work here."

Sage nodded. His sharp features looked more pointed in his tired state. "We might as well find a solution now, I don't see it letting up anytime soon."

"What about the feather?" Eberon asked, having stayed silent in the shadows most of the time, seeming horribly out of place in the group of friends. "Kaleb is too dangerous to let wander."

Sage crossed his arms and muttered to himself, "Something you'd know all about." Only Sarah really heard the elf's comment, but Eberon quickly became quiet when he saw the other man's lips move. It was obvious that the elf king Eberon felt very ashamed of his treachery.

"I think someone took the feather," Vindar offered as he approached from behind the cave. "I found large bird tracks behind the cave."

"How could they have taken it while everyone was awake?" Sarah questioned.

Sage turned to Hoggle. "Have you left camp anytime?"

"Well, sure, I, uh..." He stuttered a moment before finding his tongue. "I hadda take a wiz, you know. And I sorta tripped." Before anyone could say anything else, he blurted, "But I didn't drop nothin'! Hoggle takes good care of his stuff!"

Sarah found his indignance somewhat charming. "Hoggle, I'm sure you took fine care of it."

"You know, though," the dwarf mused, forgetting his embarrassment and raising a finger to his chin, "I now think I might'a been tripped."

"What do you think it was?" Sage asked his son.

"Spangore," Vindar replied witout hesitation. "Looked just like a Spangore's tracks."

"What would a Spangore be doing out here?" Eepwot asked.

Eberon stepped forward with a sullen look. "Claw. It has to be Kaleb's consort Claw."

"How did he know where we were?" Sarah asked the elf king as she stepped resolutely toward him. He cringed a little, obviously not completely over the mentally trying experience he had with her darker half.

"I-I..." he stuttered a moment, trying hard to gain composure. "I think he is... working with your darker half."

Sarah felt a headache coming on like an avalanche. "I don't understand. What could she want with Kaleb?"

Isabelle shook her head softly. "We found Kaleb trapped in his castle, where Sarah had left him." Isabelle turned pink when she realized what she had said. "I-I mean the other Sarah." She looked at her benefactor sheepishly. "Sorry, Sarah."

Sarah smiled wanly. "Don't worry about it, Isabelle. She's me. The less than spectacular parts I try to keep under wraps, at least." A heavy yawn escaped her lips. She realized that she'd better sit down, because her legs were buckling under a deep-seated exhaustion. Everyone watched in confusion as she lazily drifted over to the fire and sat down, not acknowledging her actions in the slightest. Sage and Benedick looked at each other with somber expressions.

_Now I remember_, Sarah thought as she dropped into her previous position in the cave. _I did fall asleep. But maybe it won't hurt if I sleep. I can sleep through this all, until it all blows over. I don't need to be awake._

She closed her heavy eyelids. The last thing she saw was her friends surrounding her with worried looks, and Sage mumbling with remourse, "Oh, Sarah. What are we going to do?"

* * *

Jareth's eyes had long since blurred over as he opened the many books one by one. His movements had become rote. He would have given up a long time ago if it weren't for the fact that each book was a different shade of gibberish. Some actually had some real words in them, which made him think that perhaps the transformation of their knowledge wasn't thorough. Part of his brain shouted that he needed to stop, to find a new way to pass the time, to do something more useful than open and close books.

He felt stuck in a nightmare-induced loop, his brain running over and over the situation like a broken record. He wanted to scream.

"That's how you know it is a dream," a voice said from the corner of the room. It was Jeremiah standing still as wood, his long grey beard heavy and gnarled. He wasn't moving, just staring at Jareth with penetrating eyes.

Jareth put the book down, and the room became dark. "What-what do you mean, Master Jeremiah?"

"That's how you know it is a dream," Jeremiah said with a soothing voice. "When the words are all gibberish."

Jareth stared at the old man in cold fear as the lights dimmed more. All that were left was Jeremiah's glowing eyes. Large teeth grew from his mouth and a twisting grin took over the remaining darkness where he had stood. A dark laugh echoed coolly in the darkness.

Jareth dropped the book. He stumbled for a light and tripped over the dropped book, falling sharply and landing on his elbows. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He wiped it away, and each sparkling drop was filled with light.

"A dream," he mumbled uncertainly in the warm glow of his own sweat.

He managed to get up, but it was difficult. He felt the darkness under his feet pulling at him menacingly. While he knew there was a dark dream magic at work, his slumbering mind couldn't get a good enough grasp on the situation to bring about resolution. So he continued to stumble along the walls, looking for a doorway, or a light switch.

Soon the walls fell away, and he felt dirt crunch under his feet. To his left a snake made of light slithered across the ground. As his eyes adjusted, he realized it was just a thin river, whose waters were sparkling through some non-existent light. Everything else remained a dark void. Everything except for the glistening river.

He shuffled close to the river and looked into its waters. His reflection stared back at him, his light blonde hair glowing in its depths. He looked regal in the reflection, like a noble king of light. His eyes were deep and pure and full of insight. He touched the water and wondered if he would ever be saved. If he would ever live up to that image. The handsome man that stared back had a pure gaze free of guilt. It was a gaze that he could never have.

He remained mesmerized by the image, transfixed. From the other side of the river, another face emerged. The light was so bright he almost had to shield his eyes. It took a moment for the face to come into focus, but when it did, he was looking at Sarah's soft face, her light brown hair blowing in a slight breeze, a gentle smile on her lips.

He started, and looked up to be greeted only by darkness. When he returned to the image of the river, there were no reflections waiting. He touched the water once more in longing, and it slithered away from him, a white snake disappearing in the distance.

_Young boy, young man  
Young soul in the man  
I see you  
I see you  
Don't run, if you can_

_It's cold in the nighttime  
It's hot in the day  
I feel you  
I feel you  
Please come out and play_

A woman's voice hummed in the distance, soft and alluring. He was drawn to it like a frozen man drawn to the warmth of a fire. He jogged toward it, then ran, forgetting that he could not see the ground or any impediment that might cross his

_We're growing so fast  
Between dreams and decay  
I'll dream you  
I'll dream you  
I'll dream you away_

_Young boy in the man  
Young man, shine away  
I'll meet you  
I'll meet you  
In your young years of May_

He ran so long, he had forgotten why he was here, or why he was running. Then he ran into an invisible tree and a great pain shot through his body. He fell to its base and wept with complete desperation. As the tears flowed, the land emerged from darkness, and he was sitting in the middle of a valley of snow and withering trees. A rabbit bound across the icy wasteland. His wet eyes followed the animal somberly.

"Don't cry," a voice coaxed from nowhere and everywhere. "Don't cry. I never wanted you to cry."

Jareth knew the voice, yet did not. His mind had lost all grasp on events. The only thing that was real, that was warm, was the steady flow of tears from his eyes. He felt like he had been weeping for many ages. Like all the pain, the suffering, the remorse came running from his being through the river on his face.

A woman edged from behind the tree and slowly crept before him. Her motions were wild, like the rabbit that had crossed the snowy plain only moments ago. Her white eyelids drifted open and closed like heavy cream falling from a pitcher. Her face was smooth like coconut milk, and the only color that was to be found in her face spread like pink roses across her cheeks.

He tried to remember who she was, the creeping soul who knelt before him, whose eyes darted everywhere in uncertainty.

"Sarah," he breathed. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid she would run away.

Her voice flowed like icy water. "Shh. We must be quiet."

He didn't know why silence was so necessary, nor why he couldn't stop trembling in heavy tears.

Her light brown hair hid behind a fur hood, which was trimmed in the same ghostly white that her face glowed. She acted like she knew him, but only from a long forgotten past. She laid her small fingertips on his eyelids, and the tears froze in their place.

His sobbing stopped cold in his chest. He felt broken and scattered, and the only person who could save him, had saved him. A tender smile spread on her pale lips.

"This is one of our meeting places," she whispered. "Until I can get out. Until I can do something."

He couldn't understand her, but he seemed to know the words. "How did you find me?"

She shook her head fitfully and grabbed his hands. Their icy cold were brisk and stirring. He thought about how only moments ago he had been a cold man running to warmth, and now he was being brought to life by cool hands.

"How do you look for that which is you?" she asked him rhetorically. "How do you search for all the missing parts of yourself? How do you ever lose the parts of you that you love more than anything?"

"You love me?" he asked, trembling.

"Haven't I told you before? How can you not know this?" she asked, touching his cheek.

Yes, Jareth did know. But he also knew this all wasn't real. "We're just dreaming again," Jareth blurted passionately. He felt like a young man in the painful throws of a love too long unrequited. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. He looked at his hands, and understood immediately why these feelings had come to him; he _was_ a young man again. He _was _the man who had once darted in and out of the darkness of the snowy forest, hunting rabbits and dreaming of new lands. He was in love with the white face of the ghost of a woman far in his future, or perhaps, far in the past of another life. He was again that young man who wanted nothing more than a heart-stirring adventure, something to try his wits, to make him a man. It was an empty dream, just like it was all an empty dream. Every broken moment of his pained life.

"We're always just dreaming!" he shouted, the voice that came out of his throat young and bitter. He threw Sarah off in his rage as he rose up. His anger was not directed at her, but directed to his nameless tormentor. He threw his head back and screamed at the sky. "It's always just a dream! I'm tired of playing these games! So goddamned tired!" His blonde hair was almost white, and it fell softly against the youthful contours of his face as his lithe body collapsed broken and vanquished to the ground.

The white Sarah crawled to him and stroked his soft hair. "Shh," she whispered softly. "Don't cry, my love. Don't be sad. I am here. I was always here. Just as you were always with me."

He looked up at her, vulnerable, needing the saving grace of her green eyes. He had seen those eyes many times in her life; they had always been a soft brown, beautiful brown eyes. Why were they green, now? "Sarah, I want you. I _need_ you. More than anything I've ever needed in my life. Where are you? Why can't I be with you?"

Her expression was distracted, and she looked off into the distance. "She's coming."

Jareth grabbed her face and turned it toward him, the youthful fire in his bones taking even him by surprise. She looked amazed by his behavior, but not frightened. "Answer me, Sarah! What has happened to you?"

"I'm in the Mists, my love. And I am also somewhere else. But the other me will be here soon." Jareth noted the fear in her eyes, and could sense that something was amiss. He knew it was more than a dream, that he was supposed to do something here, that he had a duty to perform.

"I think she's trapped me," Sarah answered softly, seeming to break out of the deep, animalistic trance that had controlled her only moments ago. Warm gold tones ebbed and flowed into her form, bringing a slow-growing color into her icy form. "I've trapped myself. I'm broken too, Jareth. We're both broken. We have to put each other back together."

She held his hands and together they rose from the ground, snow crunching under their feet. She smiled at him gently. "You were beautiful when you were younger," she remarked, her icy breath coiling smoke in the air. "I wanted to see what you looked like when you were just a boy."

"You did this?" he asked, sensing impending doom, but not caring in the slightest. Her soft gaze destroyed all fear.

"You did it," she said, glowing. "You did it by loving me." She paused a moment to gaze softly into his eyes and brushed the long bangs out of his eyes. The last crows feet disappeared from the corners of his lids. "Let's promise now to be young together, for ever. Let's never be old. Let's find the fountain of youth, and spend eternity as children."

A smile spread across his own smooth, thin lips. His eyes were bright and hopeful, empty of all age. "Okay."

A slight frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as a hurricane of darkness began to whip around them, a howling, deafening abyss. "Jareth, it's time now."

He felt like he needed to be strong for the young woman in his arms, but he didn't know what was expected of him. "What am I supposed to do."

"You know."

His heart was pounding earlier, but it quieted in his chest as sureness swept over him. "That's right, now I remember."

He bent forward in a gentle motion that defied the anger of the howling wind that ripped the dream snow from the ground all around them. He touched his lips to hers and knew instantly that this was the beginning of his life's journey. Sarah always was his, and would always be his. Perhaps he would forget this testament in wakefulness, but, in the meantime, the truth was real and pure, and Sarah was in his arms.

Dreams were the meeting place. Hadn't they always been?

* * *

Jareth woke to the sensation of someone pushing his arm. The first thing his sleepy eyes focused on was the puddle of drool he had left on the gibberish-encasing book he had been looking at before he fell asleep. He looked up then down, and there was Didymus prodding him with a gloved hand. "Your Majesty, er, I mean, Jareth," Sir Didymus spoke nervously.

Jareth rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What's the matter, Didymus?" the man asked, still shaken by his uneasy sleep. He examined the drool in his more wakeful state, and wondered if Gail would be angry. He looked around the study for Jeremiah, but the older man was nowhere to be found.

"Toby seems to be having terrible nightmares, Sir," Didymus explained. "I can't wake him. He's having an awful time of it, I'm very afraid for him."

Jareth shot out of the chair and rushed into the main bedroom. Sure enough, there was Toby, having tossed the covers from him entirely in his tossing and turning. He was clawing at his pillow weakly.

Jareth ran to the boy's side and tried to shake him awake, but nothing was working. "No... no..." Toby kept moaning sleepily. "My sister... get... no... not you, stop it..."

Jareth held the boy close to him and tried to coax him out of his fright.

"Just like Miss Marlena," Didymus mumbled, wringing his hands.

"How long has he been like this, Didymus?" Jareth asked as he pulled the boy's eyelids back to see if anything was out of the ordinary. The boy could almost have been having an epileptic seizure.

"It started out like normal sleep, but he only got this bad in the last hour," Didymus answered, pointing to the clock on the shelf. It was six in the morning.

"How long have I been asleep?" Jareth asked the fox, a horrible understanding of things slowly developing in his mind.

"I don' t know, Sir, I've been watching Master Tobias this whole time."

"You didn't fall asleep, did you?" Jareth asked, realizing too late how accusatory his statement came across.

The fox's brow rose at the potential insult, but it fell again as he seemed to have become accustomed to being seen as failing in his duties. "No, Sir, I have been awake this entire time."

"I'm sorry, Didymus, I didn't mean it that way," the man did his best to coax.

Jeremiah stepped into the doorway. "What's going on here?" the man said, straightening a small pair of spectacles on his nose.

Jareth cradled the child in his arms and shot up from the bed. "Don't you try to act like you don't know what's going on, _Master Jeremiah."_ He got so close to the man's face that his breath fogged up his glasses. "You have such a convenient way of showing up at just the right moment." Jareth stormed out of the room, Didymus trailing after him in confusion. The fox stood against the wall and watched the men keenly. He had never seen Jareth raise his voice since he had returned to Sunset City, and he sensed that there was an important reason that he was getting angry just now.

"What in heavens name are you talking about, Boy?" Jeremiah shot him a baffled look. "I've been in the other room sorting through books all this time." He pointed to a stack of books on the coffee table.

"Don't call me, 'Boy'," Jareth scolded. He put Toby's limp, troubled form down into a loveseat, where the young boy continued his disturbed mumblings in the background. Didymus trotted to the boy's side and gently pet his hand.

"I'm a grown man, now," Jareth yelled. "I'm much, much more than that now, thanks to your meddling in my life. You have a funny way of making things happen that turn people's lives around, like good milk suddenly gone bad. You ruined my life, Old Man, and now is the time you answer to it." Jareth brought an angry fist against the shelf next to him, causing Jeremiah to jump.

But he soon gained his composure. "Now that's enough," he blurted, taking off his glasses and stuffing them into a pouch at his side. "You are such a fool. You know as well as I do that you ruined your own life. Going off pursuing power that you were too unseasoned to harness"

"_It was my life to live as I chose!_" Jareth bellowed. "Mistakes and all! You had no right to meddle!"

"That's where you are wrong, Jareth!" Jeremiah's face twisted into a picture of bitterness. "You chose to take into your own hands things that would affect the lives of others! It was my responsibility to make you learn from that mistake! My responsibility as your teacher! Just because we are mixed breeds that live longer than humans and have stronger powers, does not give us the right"

"Had!" Jareth corrected. "I _had_ powers. And, thanks to that, I am too helpless to stop this nonsense! You broke my spirit, Jeremiah! How can you be so proud of that?"

Jeremiah let out a bitter laugh. "Too helpless to _stop_ this nonsense? You are the one who started it! Or don't you remember that?"

"I would never have willfully done anything that led to this," Jareth seethed. His eyes cut holes in his old teacher.

"No, let's break this down if we must, your memory is obviously too clouded to get a clear picture," Jeremiah said in a patronizing tone. "Let me remind you how it went. Four hundred years ago... My goodness, it is a long time, so maybe you are getting too _old_ to remember, hmm?" He circled Jareth with glowing eyes. "Four hundred years ago, you were just a boy, and by your mother's begging, I took you in as my apprentice, to teach you the ways of the sorcerer, and all the magical arts that would let you live out the true potential of your birthright."

Jareth simmered while the old man continued his story.

"And then, one day, you got it in your head that you were ready for all the knowledge to open up to you in that one instant, too impatient to learn your skills gradually, too young to use your damned brain," Jeremiah tapped on his head at the last remark, his face twisted in a mocking scowl. "So, you went off on some damned fool quest to find the Crystals of Amnarahk, thinking you would be able to do whatever you liked once you had them in your possession. Now, stop me if I have it wrong so far."

Jareth merely glowered at him, the anger rising to a fiery pitch in his chest.

"Always were listening to too many elfin legends, I always said," the old man continued. "And so you went off on the word of your elf friend—who, might I add, you betrayed by using the knowledge he passed to you to find the crystals. Umm, now let me think, interesting! You've done this more than once. Don't you have a good friend now that you betrayed in a similar manner some decades ago?" A vicious smile spread across his lips. He was thoroughly enjoying the embarrassment Jareth was experiencing at his hands. "Good thing he doesn't remember you, lad, I doubt he'd be such good friends with you now if he knew who you _really_ were."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jareth spat.

Jeremiah laughed at his ignorance. "You must be losing your touch if you don't remember. But, as this is not the point of my story, I will let you try to muddle it through on your own," Jeremiah shot. "You see, you made a mistake while you were on your little fools quest. You went through the Shadow Mountains, and, surprise, surprise, your shadow happened to be the epitome of evil! This adventure just gets more and more interesting by the moment."

"But being cursed as a king of goblins for over three hundred years? What kind of punishment is that!" The depth of it began to hit him. The years all had blurred together until this very moment, where he was in a face-off with the man who had sentenced him to his fate.

"A fitting one for a man who sought to take what was not rightfully his," Jeremiah spat. "You basically took the former city of Remnonturned Goblin City, turned Sunset Cityaway from its citizens! Right from under their noses! How could I let you go without punishment? You had to see the consequences of your actions!"

Jareth had become amazingly quiet, all the anger that he had directed at Jeremiah turning inward. He began to doubt he was so right in accusing the man.

"Ah, but here's the beauty of it, Jareth," his teacher gesticulated excitedly, ignoring Jareth's increasingly crestfallen expression. "I didn't have anything to do with your fate. I let your subconscious mind handle that one. You chose your own fate."

He stopped before Jareth and smirked. "You paid exactly how much and how long you really thought you needed to. Not until this young girl came into your life... Then, aha! You're _in love_." He said the last two words in syrupy mockery. "Ooo hoo, now you're saved by love. And look what you did to that love... Look at the havoc you have wreaked. Only you would be such a foolish old man to fall in love with a sixteen year old girl, then put all your emotional problems onto her shoulders. But, perhaps age ceases to matter when you've become as old as you are. Maybe the rules don't matter. But, with you, did they ever matter, Jareth? Did you ever think about someone other than yourself for one moment?"

Jareth felt trapped in a corner. He knew something wasn't right, that Jeremiah had skewed the facts somewhere and doctored the story into something more licivious and wretched. But he couldn't put his finger on what exactly was wrong.

"You'd like to blame it all on Kaleb. Oh, he was manipulating you into being someone you weren't. Well, I have news for you—it takes your own feet to make a step in the wrong direction. To get to the point where Kaleb even ever had a chance to control you meant that you had to have made many, many poor choices along the way, Jareth. _You_ are to blame. Don't point your finger at me for what your own youthful impudence has bought you. This is your mess to untangle. _I_ am only involved because the fate of our two worlds are at stake. I am certainly not here to apologize to you for something you have done to yourself."

Jareth felt woefully silenced. Just as hope had begun to resurface in his aching soul that maybe their was some sense to it, whether it be Sarah's forgiveness in his dreams, or finally being able to understand the reality behind his teacher's seemingly treacherous actions.

Jeremiah's face softened, and he put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Look, Jareth, I do understand that we all make mistakes. I am here to help, really. You just have to trust me. We have to trust each other. I can help you get out, but you can't make such accusations."

Jareth looked up at his teacher, completely trampled, confounded. He never thought after living so long that he would still be susceptible to such a heavy sensation of failure. He wondered if it was only something that got worse with the years. It took him fifty years to get new wrinkles. But it only took an hour to make him feel like the oldest man who ever lived.

Then the dream came back to him, triggered by his thoughts. "Let's promise now to be young together, for ever."

Jareth looked up at Jeremiah, composed. The remembrance of the dream caused all the weight to fall from his trampled spirit, like discarded shackles. A great calm passed over him, and he became acutely aware that none of what had just passed really mattered.

"Okay," he said with a distanced look, appearing on the surface to have responded to Jeremiah's plea that they drop their differences. But, in his mind, he was addressing Sarah again, fulfilling his promise.

He turned his gaze to Toby, who was still mumbling in his sleep. Didymus hadn't left the boy's side the entire time, and had been quietly watching the two men exchange words. Jareth turned away from his teacher, leaving Jeremiah confused as to what point exactly the fight had fizzled out so thorougly in his former student.

"Is he any better, Didymus?" Jareth asked as he kneeled by the boy's side.

"No, Master Jareth," Didymus replied, shaking his head.

A new life crept into Jareth's bones, and he felt called back to his dream. Suddenly he realized that he had to remember that everything that unfolded henceforth was not really real. The world he was standing in had lost coherence, and couldn't be taken for face value. 'You know this is a dream, because the words are all gibberish,' Jeremiah had said.

So Jareth decided that now was the time to turn to the slumbering dreams that remained for insight, because whatever dreams that were left over were the last dreams to hold any resemblance to the logic that held the core of things together. He didn't know how he knew this. He supposed the knowledge came with a combination of the intuition one develops after having lived so long, and so closely with fae magic. Maybe it was knowledge borne out of love.

He remembered his dream, and he knew the answer. He bent down and kissed the boy on the cheek. He pulled away softly, knowing with all his being that he had chosen the right solution.

Toby's eyes shot open in fright, and he elbowed Jareth in the chin as his body jerked out of his painful slumber. Jareth recoiled and put his hand to his bruised chin in reflex, but quickly forgot the pain in his joy over seeing the boy awakened. "Jareth!" Toby shouted, sincerely afraid. Jareth smiled softly at the boy and wrapped his arms about him.

"It's okay, Toby," Jareth coaxed. "You were just having bad dreams. You're safe with me now."

Jeremiah looked at the scene, scratching his chin in complete awe. "Interesting," he mumbled with a curious smile.

Didymus' tail wagged happily. He put his hand on the boy's arm. "I'm so glad you're awake, Master Toby. We were really worried for you."

* * *

As soon as Sarah and Ludo turned up missing from the camp, Hoggle and Eberon became embroiled in a fight over whose fault it was that she was lost. Hoggle still wasn't convinced that Eberon had not stolen the feather. Sage quieted them down and assured them they would soon find her if they followed the distinct footprints Ludo had left behind.

Hoggle hung back in the group, his arms crossed angrily as he thought of the terrible things that might have happened to Sarah. Isabelle was soon at his side. She put a reassuring arm on his shoulder.

"I can't lose anyone else," Hoggle finally blurted out.

Isabelle gave him a wan smile. "We won't lose her, Hoggle. But I know how you feel. It's hard to lose your parents. My mother died too, not long ago, and it's the worst feeling ever."

"There's no solving it." Hoggles eyes were heavy and full of regret. "So many things that could have been diff'rent."

"But soon you realize that everything was just as it should have been," Isabelle answered softly. "And then it's okay." She looked straight ahead thoughtfully and he turned up to look at her young, clear skin. She seemed an angel from his perspective.

"You did everything just right, Hoggle." She smiled and looked down at him, brushing a soft hand against his skullcap. She reminded him so much of Sarah, his heart nearly burst with love and he forgot his sadness.

* * *

Sarah's eyes shot open, and the first reflexive motion she made was to reach out for a body, but her groping hands only came up with air. Her sleepy mind grasped for clarity, she wondered where Jareth had gone. Her eyes were still closed, struggling to open, to find out what was going on. She still lingered with the sensation of an icy kiss, and another world on the edge of consciousness. She might have slept forever if it hadn't have been for Jareth.

A sensation of warm fur reached her brain, and she realized that she was being carried by someone. As her eyes finally opened, she looked up to see Ludo's permanent wistful smile looking ahead. She craned her neck and didn't see anyone from the caravan in front of her. Ludo walking across the desert mists under a weak light that could only be classified as early morning.

Ludo noticed she had awoken and his big dumb smile stretched to its limits. "Sarah! Sarah awake!" He held her closer to him, suffocating her in warm, dusty fur before he finally set her down.

Sarah got a good look all around her, looked behind the beast and into the horizon. "Where is everyone, Ludo?"

Ludo shrugged his big shoulders. "Ludo lost," he answered.

"What happened?" Sarah asked, brushing her fingers through her hair as mild panic washed over her.

"Sarah sleep walk," Ludo answered. "Everyone asleep, Ludo follow Sarah."

"So they did find a way to get to sleep," she mused. "I'm sure we're not far from them. How long have you been walking with me, Ludo? Has it been long?"

Ludo shook his head.

"Good, then we can try to look around for them." She didn't like the idea that they could be completely lost from the group, but she knew there was no good fretting over it, so she did her best to pick a direction. A bird flew overhead toward some nameless destination.

"C'mon, lets follow that bird. Maybe it will lead us back to the river."

Ludo ambled behind her a couple of feet while she led the way.

As they walked, her stomach growled in rebellion. "Damn, we haven't eaten in several hours. I don't even remember how long it's been." She remembered being down this road more times than she liked. Hungry on a journey, with no food to be had.

She thought about all the things she missed from her castle Underground. Dinnertime at eight every night, only the best cod and wine, fresh salads and a bouquet of flowers adorning the table on her private veranda. Sitting with Sage as the sun set over the castle garden. Talking politics, talking about life, about the past, about the future. Despite the great effort she had been forced to exert in bringing the kingdom back to its feet, she missed being queen. She had grown to love being responsible for individuals other than herself, and making the world a better place for her citizens to live in. It was a goal she had never before possessed, and though her initial reasons for taking the queenship were less than selfless, she had learned to find great joy in sacrifice.

Sarah had always wanted to live in a world of fantasy, like most teenagers. But she never grew out of it—even as an adult, she never felt completely at home Aboveground. The five years she was away after her first adventure, she would find herself pining away for the kooky world, wishing she had allowed herself to enjoy the experience more. Always having been fairly reserved as a teen and only surfacely involved in the affairs of her friends, she had never considered that she might one day be in the midst of very true friends who would do anything to help her. Or to have a four year friendship with an elf who had lived hundreds of years and traveled many lands. Or to have a fox knight in charge of her round table. Or a big beast to protect her even in her sleep.

She reached out and took hold of Ludo's big hand. He held hers silently as they walked side by side in search of their companions. Sarah had grown to understand Ludo's emotions over time, and though he didn't speak much, there was always a great deal going on under the surface. She could tell that he was anxious over having lost the camp site, and she didn't want him to worry.

"It's okay, Ludo, don't worry about it. We'll find them."

Ludo didn't answer, but did loosen up his shoulders, falling into a deeper, more relaxed slouch. Sarah patted his hand and smiled at him.

She didn't feel rested at all after her slumber, but consistently had to fight the urge to go back to sleep. After her dream, she could only conclude that sleep was her prison while her other half was gallavanting about, draining their mutual power. She had sensed that the dark side of her had been seeking her out, even if only subconsciously, perhaps to wipe her out completely.

There was something more to it that she couldn't pin down, but she knew she'd figure it out. Now she was awake just enough to mull over the things that the Gatekeeper had revealed to her, and all the words that had passed between she and Jareth.

"I saw Jareth in my sleep," she said to Ludo. He didn't have an answer, but she knew he was listening all the same. "He's been trying to find us. I don't think he knew that... my darker side was the one who did all this. He didn't know there were two parts of me acting on their own."

"Jareth save us?" Ludo warbled.

Sarah shook her head. "I don't think he can, Ludo. He doesn't have the power he used to. It's all up to us. For now, at least." She sank into quiet, realizing how comfortable she had become with being lost. She stopped fighting it. She tried not to think about the future, and sank into the quiet of the moment.

Ludo looked down at his mistress with deep, black eyes. "Sarah love Jareth?" he asked simply.

Sarah looked up at the beast and smiled wanly, squeezing his hand as she did so. She turned her gaze back ahead, took a deep breath, and let it out in a heavy sigh. "Yeah. I do."

"Jareth love Sarah?" Ludo asked, as if striking conversation in his own way.

She bit her lip, chewing at a piece of dried skin. "I'm so stupid," she answered, shaking her head vigorously. Ludo seemed confused, but he gave her space to finish. She finally found her tongue. "He does, Ludo. I think he's loved me for a long time, but I don't know why. I don't know what he sees in me."

Ludo smiled with assurance. "Because Sarah pretty. Sarah nice."

Sarah couldn't help but be filled with complete joy at his simple honesty. She lunged at him and hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture.

"You're not so bad yourself." She grabbed his hand again, renewed, a little less weary, and continued on.

Sarah didn't really relish being put off her quest for so long, but she couldn't have wished for a better friend to be stuck with for the time being.

They walked for another twenty minutes, and while the sun did not become brighter than that of an early morning sun, the air did get much hotter. It was a stark contrast to the cool Mist that usually existed Underground. Sarah felt sorry for Ludo, as it was apparent that he was struggling greatly under the sweltering heat.

"Are you okay?" she asked the beast, whose nose was dripping with perspiration. He nodded his shaggy head, but Sarah knew he was just trying not to be a bother. In the distance, she finally caught a glimpse of a crack in the ground that looked like a riverbed. There was no way of telling if it was the same riverbed that the travelers had originally been following under the guidance of Albert and Wonggu, but it was better than nothing.

They stopped at the edge of the riverbed, which was completely devoid of moisture. She began to doubt they were on the right track, as the river they had been following before had been filled with muddy water. However, it had shown signs of drying out the further along they went, so it was possible that it was the same riverbed.

Something caught her eye further down the split, and she jumped at the sight of a white snake, whose shiny skin glittered rainbow colors in the dim light. As she continued to observe it from a distance, she noticed that it was on its side, unmoving. She inched closer until she was certain it was dead. Ludo was not frightened of the animal, as he had never seen a snake before, and had no concept that they could be in any way dangerous. Against her best judgment, Sarah poked the dead animal with her booted toe. It didn't budge.

Ludo looked sad. "Dead?"

"Yeah, I think so," Sarah said as she crouched low to examine it. It was a very large snake, about three inches in diameter and four feet long. From far off it hadn't seemed too menacing, and if Sarah had gotten a full view of its form at the start, she probably wouldn't have been so inclined to approach it.

Nonetheless, she felt a deep remorse for the death of such a beautiful specimen. The mouth of the snake curved up the side of its face in a sort of reptilian smile, its sharp teeth visible in its partially opened mouth.

"What is she?" Ludo asked.

"Some sort of snake. I rarely saw them Underground, they pretty much only exist Aboveground. I don't think I've ever seen a white one, though." Sarah gently lifted the head of the snake, not quite certain why she wasn't feeling more frightened of it. The skin was smooth and hot from lying on the dry mesa. It looked like it hadn't been dead for long, and there were no visible signs for the cause of its death. She turned the head in the light to observe the shimmering patterns on its smooth contours.

There was something much more to the snake than met the eye. Sarah knew it instantly, because, as she looked into its still, black eyes she saw a night sky of stars. The longer she stared, the more she felt the connection to the snake.

Sarah looked up in surprise as Ludo craned his head back and let out a gentle howl. He looked back down at her when he was done, then to the perimeter of their location where a number of fist-sized tan rocks came rolling into view. "We bury," Ludo explained. The snake was almost too large for Sarah to carry, so Ludo bent down and scooped the dead animal up in his arms. He found a deep spot in the riverbed and coiled the snake up in the middle of the indentation. The rocks rolled to his side and waited patiently, while Sarah looked on amazed.

Together they took the rocks one by one and stacked them over the snake in a sort of pyramid. Something about the ritual seemed right and necessary. Perhaps there had been a reason that they became lost.

They stood back and looked on their handiwork. "That was a good idea, Ludo," Sarah said as she looked up at the tall beast. His lip trembled in uncertainty, and she knew that he was very uncomfortable with the death of any creature. He would have shed tears if that had been his way.

She started to take his hand to leave, but something moved at the corner of her eye. She looked back to the rock pyramid, and it had transformed into a solid rock face, upon which was painted the symbol of the spiraling snake in white clay.

Sarah dropped Ludo's hand and approached the totem. "More than you seem, aren't you?" Sarah said, brushing her hands across the stone. She remembered the story Albert told her by the cave about the Raindbow Snake and the Dreaming. As she ran her fingers across the white paint of the snake, the image shimmered.

The painted head swiftly morphed out of the rock face into a live snake's head, fangs bared.

Sarah was too shocked to move quickly enough. The snake bit her before she could react.

A great light spilled from Sarah's eyes and, as suddenly as the snake came back to life, everything had disappeared.

First she heard a sound. The sound of a drum. Thumping hollow rhythms in the darkness. And then she realized it was her heart beating. Or the stars vibrating.

She had lived many lives before this. She had been many other people, as there were many pieces of many other selves embedded in her soul. She could call them all by name.

"I birthed the world, I made the rivers that made the places this and that, here and there," the voice of the white snake vibrated. "The Id and the Ego are mine, my creation. All the separations, for contrast, to allow deeper understanding of existence."

The view filled with sparkling white, where rainbows erupted from a million blinding stars. "I took the world out of the Dreaming, and the Dreaming out of the world. I separated them so that they could thrive and learn their names. They are still learning, but now they can remember where each came from."

Sarah looked into the great expanse of white, and the longer she looked, the more she was filled with awe. "It's so big. Is this the Dreaming?"

"No, it is all of existence that you see. It is the realm over which the Gatekeeper watches."

Sarah watched the white void writhe and move, and realized that she was looking upon the moving figure of the large, white snake. The scales were like prisms that separated light into their different colors. There were colors within her scales that Sarah had never seen before.

"We've met before," Sarah whispered.

"We have. Everyone has met me before. But you have seen me more times than most, that is, during the time that time has existed."

"You created the barriers, the walls."

"Not walls like cages, but the membranes through which things flow to find their rightful home."

"Avalon," Sarah said with a gasp. "I remember now."

Sarah sensed the great snake was smiling. One eye peered from between the increasingly defined folds of her body writhing in and out of itself. "That is only a small piece of you, Sarah. Morgana was one of your many names. You still hold those gifts, but your gifts are your own, not those of a past self. This is the body you live in now. Like me, it has fallen on you to help make the definitions. To give form with the power of your speech, of your great journey across the land, to give form with your sharp bite. For a time, it was separate, as I made it to be. It is together now, and understanding can be reaped, but only if it is separated once more."

"I am no one special," Sarah breathed into the void, where she only existed as a voice. "I am just a girl from Forest Grove."

"No one chooses the great path," the snake hissed softly. "The journey is yours because it is yours. Your journey is the journey of the entire world, now. The consequences are dire if you do not find your true name."

"My true name?" Sarah felt awash with confusion.

"Both sides will learn their place, and then you can be whole again. Id and Ego will see the color of their blood, and in you the Dreams and the Reality will co-exist."

"I don't understand."

"You can only see the foreground, but there are many players who shift and move to your rear. Use your blood, Sarah, to see the larger view."

"I'm so tired."

"I know you are. But you will only be more tired if you rest. Do you understand?"

"I think so." The snake was fulling formed before Sarah, her scaly face propped atop her large, coiled body. Her jaws creeped into a smile as she faced her. The only darkness was found in the night sky trapped in her great eyes.

"It is hard to understand the fullness of things in a mortal form, do not fret over it," the snake soothed. "Take with you the gifts of I and the Gatekeeper, and use them well. It is no small task to be in charge of the spiritual enlightenment of an entire world, my child. The powers of the universe watch over you with great care and interest. Always remember this."

The snake looked into the distance as if observing something Sarah could not see. "Your other half is struggling in the mire of the dark ways, and neither of you must be lost in great joy or great sorrow. Focus on the earthly realm, dear one. Whenever you feel lost in your separate names, you must think about the pain in your arm, where I bit you. It is up to you to bring the darkness home, where it can be tempered."

"I don't know if I can," Sarah said weakly. "She's too powerful, too in control. I'm lost."

Her statement elicited a riotous laughter from the large snake. "Now I understand your hesitancy. Yes, I suspected as much." The snake slithered forward, and Sarah realized that she herself had found form, her body floating in the midst of the great void where the snake had brought her. The large body coiled round and round her slim figure. The mother snake had grown to the gigantic proportions of a fearsome monster. She finished twisting and fixed her hypnotic eyes upon Sarah's.

"It is you who is more powerful, Sarah the White. You were always the one in control. Sleep fools you into thinking otherwise, perhaps."

Sarah was lost in the eyes of the Rainbow Snake, and couldn't pull out. Each hissed word bore deep into her soul, the pressing of her reptile body forcing the blood to pump in her ears. "Do not be lulled by the warm, sinewy song of your other half, dear Sarah. You are white ice, pure and unshattered..."

Her voice echoed in Sarah's ears slow and deliberate with each syllable. "You are full of the power of life."

Her eyes shot open and a smile spread across her face. No time had passed since she entered her trance, and Ludo was still reeling in shock at the bite she had received from the snake. Barely did he get a chance to step forward when she threw her arm forward instinctively, cutting a hole into the very air before the now lifeless totem. She pulled Ludo's big hand and jerked him forward with her, into the light.

When they came out on the other side, they were face to face with the caravan they had been seeking for the last half hour.

Everyone stared at her with boggling eyes, completely unprepared for her appearance. Her teeth showed confidently from between her lips as she looked at them with full satisfaction.

"Sarah! Ludo!" Isabelle shouted.

Albert and Wonggu were shocked the most by the appearance, as it was the first explosive display of magic they had observed since they ran into the group.

Sarah turned to Albert. "I met the Rainbow Snake, Albert."

His eyes were large, and his teeth protruded from a widening smile. "You know, I wouldn't believe you, but after that trick, I will believe anything."

No one had yet registered what happened, even Ludo, who was still gazing at the drops of blood on Sarah's arm.

She turned to the group, not giving anyone a chance to react in her rushed excitement. "I think I know what to do now."

"Well, thank goodness someone does!" Hoggle shouted. "My damned feet are killing me!"


End file.
